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THE MIE E R; 

OR, 

A DELINEATION 

OF 

xMtni Classes of C|nstians, 



IN 



A SERIES OF LECTURES, 




REV. J.^.^ETER, D.D., 

EICHMOND, VIRGINIA. 



BY REV. A. M. POINDEXTER 



9u. 



CHARLESTON, S. C: 
SOUTHERN BAPTIST PUBLICATION SOCIETY 

1855. 




^ 



)l^f 



\ 



M 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by 

J. B. JETER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Easteriii District of Virginia. 



TO THE 

REV. DANIEL ^VITT, 

OF PRINCE EDWARD COUNTY, VIRGINIA, 

ONE OF HIS 

EARLIEST AND, MOST DEVOTED FRIENDS, 

WHOSE LIFE HAS SO BEAUTIFULLY EXEMPLIFIED 

THE SPIRIT AND PRECEPTS OF 



FOLLOWING WORK INSCRIBED, 

AS A SMALL TESTIMONIAL OF THE HIGH AND AFFECTIONATE 
REGARD IN WHICH HE IS HELD BY THE 

. AUTHOR. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introduction, 7 

LECTURE I. 
Living Christians, • s^?)* *j». 21 

LECTURE II. 
Growing Christians, 40 

LECTURE III. 
Useful Christians, ; 67 

LECTURE IV. 
Happy Christians, ; 73 

LECTURE V. 
Doubting Christians, 89 

LECTURE VL 
Timid Christians, 106 

LECTURE VII. 
Indolent Christians, 115 

LECTURE VIII. 
Inconstant Christians, 181 



VI CONTENTS. 

PAGB 
LECTURE IX. 

Fashionable Christians, 141 

LECTUEE X. 
Frivolous Christians, , 153 

LECTURE XI. 
Sensitive Christians, 165 

LECTURE XII; 
Censorious Christians, 174 

LECTURE XIIL 
Obstinate Christians, 185 

LECTURE XIV. 
Speculative Christians, 198 

LECTURE XV. 
Covetous Christians, 209 

LECTURE XVI. 
Rum Drinking Christians, 220 

LECTURE XVII. 
Inconsistent Christians, 235 



PREFACE. 



Some of the following Lectures were delivered a 
few years since, from brief notes, in tlie regular course 
of my pastoral ministrations. They were subse- 
quently written out, and published, with a few ad- 
ditional Lectures, in a periodical of very limited cir- 
culation. Several judicious friends have requested 
me to republish them, in an enduring form. Hoping 
that their more extensive circulation will contribute 
something to increase the piety and usefulness of 
Christians, I have concluded to comply with the re- 
quest. Some of the Lectures have been re-written, 
to others considerable additions have been made, the 
rest have been carefully revised, and several entirely 
new have been added. 

The plan of the work is, so far as I know, unique. 
Its main object is the correction of prevalent faults 
among professing Christians. Some of these are 
seemingly trivial, but they seriously mar the moral 



Till PREFACE. 

beauty, and impair the efficiency of those who are 
guilty of them; and rarely, if ever, is an attempt 
made to correct them, in the usual course of pulpit 
instruction. The plan of these Lectures, partly di- 
dactic and partly narrative, afforded an opportunity, 
without violating the unity of the design, or giving 
offence, to aim at the correction of every species of 
sin and folly. 

The characters delineated in the Lectures are partly 
fictitious, but the incidents stated are substantially 
true. Most of them have occurred under my own ob- 
servation, some have been related to me by truthful 
witnesses, and a few have been gleaned in reading. 
These facts have been modified to suit my purposes, 
disguised to avoid giving offence, and so combined as 
to produce the best effects. In some cases, the facts 
are detailed with historical fidelity, in others, the sex 
is changed, and in others again, that is represented as 
having taken place with me which took place with 
others, or as having happened to others which hap- 
pened to me. In some delineations, I had a half 
dozen originals before my mind. I do not think that 
any person can find just cause of offence, in the Lec- 
tures. But should any one surmise that I must have 
meant him, I can only say, that I have spoken in kind- 



PP^EFACE. IX 

ness and honesty, and sincerely hope that he may "be 
profited by my words. 

To the lovers of fiction, I doubt not, my stories will 
seem insipid, if not disgusting; to the unbending ad- 
vocates of the orthodox plan of religious instruction, 
they may appear incompatible with the dignity of the 
pulpit ; but if they serve the purpose of correcting, 
in any measure, the evils which abound in Christian 
churches, the author will be abundantly compensated 
for the labor of preparing them for publication. 

J. B. JETER, 

Richmond, Virginia, March 8, 1855. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

The design of this work is, by a practical exhibition 
of Christian character, in its excellencies and defects, 
to encourage the followers of Christ to cultivate those 
and to avoid these. This is a matter of great moment. 
And the method pursued by the author is well adapted 
to secure the object. Didactic instruction, however 
valuable and well expressed, does not so awaken at- 
tention as narrative. But there is danger when nar- 
rative alone is used, that the interest awakened will 
expend itself in fruitless sympathy. A just combi- 
nation of both methods may secure the advantages, 
and avoid the evils peculiar to each. Such a combi- 
nation the author attempts ; and he has to a happy 
extent succeeded. In each Lecture is discussed and 
illustrated some one type of Christian character, and 
thus instruction is impressed upon the memory and 
upon the heart. 

The subjects treated are of the highest importance. 
The Gospel is a practical system. Its power, as such, 
is developed in the character of Christians. Not that 
in any one there is that moral beauty which perfect 
conformity to the Gospel would impart : nor that the 
state of the Christian profession is a fair and full ex- 



12 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

position of its principles and tendencies. But the 
actual working of the system, as a power antagonizing 
all the forms of corruption, is exhibited in the fol- 
lowers, and the churches, of Christ. And the influ' 
ence of Christictnity upon mankind, depends very ma- 
terially upon the piety of Christians. 

The Gospel is a sanctifying power. It purifies 
wherever it controls. It is a perfect mould, which, so 
far as the heart is brought into undisturbed contact 
with it, forms it into the image of the Holy One. The 
heart thus renewed will produce purity of life. " By 
their fruits ye shall know them." The actions of men 
are daguerreotypes of the " hidden man of the heart." 
There may be the assumption of character in order to 
deceive. And the hypocrite may, perchance, act his 
part with as much verisimilitude and success as Garrick 
ever attained upon the stage. This fact, however, de- 
monstrates, that, in the absence of such detestable 
fraud, the life is the heart revealed. Were it not for 
the confidence that men are what they seem to be, there 
would neither be the power nor the motive to de- 
ceive. It is Vain to pretend to piety in the neglect of 
morality. Such a claim will not be credited. Nor 
should it be. Grace does not dissolve, but sanctify, 
the union which exists in nature between the heart 
and the life. ^^ A good man, out of the good treasure 
of the heart, bringeth forth good things : and an evil 
man, out of the evil treasure, bringeth forth evil things." 
The heart is the fountain — the life, the stream which 
flows from it. The Gospel infuses right principles, 



IKTROBUCTORY ESSAY. 13 

imparts correct rules of conduct, and enforces these 
rules by holy and powerful motives. And then only 
has its influence been realized, when both the heart 
and the life are holy. 

Christianity affects the world mainly through the 
piety of Christians. The Bible may be read for the 
information it imparts ; admired for its simplicity, its 
purity, its beauty and sublimity ; it may modify the 
laws, and improve the morals of society; it may, 
apart from example, occasionally prove the means of 
salvation ; but generally it will be an inoperative 
power when unaccompanied by Christian influence. 

The pulpit is a consecrated place. The Author of 
Salvation has ordained " by the foolishness of preach- 
ing to save them that believe." But, if the preacher 
be a wicked man, his utterances of the truth are more 
likely to draw upon him the scorn of his hearers, than 
to be ^' the power of Grod unto" their salvation. He 
is as " the abomination of desolation standing in the 
holy place" — a sign of God's wrath, rather than a 
messenger of his mercy. 

The churches of Christ are the divinely appointed 
agencies for the conversion of the world. A pure and 
devoted church, animated by the Spirit, engaged in the 
service, and reflecting the glory of the Redeemer, 
exerts a saving influence of great prevalence and 
power. Happy the community where such a church 
exists, " for there the Lord commandeth the blessing, 
even life for ever more." But a church of ungodly 
or disorderly members, however Scriptural their creed, 



14 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

however enthusiastic their devotions, however earnest 
their zeal, is a positive and serious injury. If they 
make proselytes, they are apt to become " two-fold 
more the children of hell" than they were before. 
Sober, reflecting men will say, ^' 0, my soul, come 
not thou into their secret ; unto their assembly, mine 
honor, be not thou united." 

The piety of a church depends upon the piety of 
the members. As there is no greater numerical 
strength than the aggregate of the individual mem- 
bers, so there can be no more of piety than the con- 
stituents of the church possess. What is possessed 
by them is possessed by the church — what is wanting 
in them is wanting in the church. And no one is a 
better man by being a church member unless he is a 
real Christian. On the contrary, such a connection, 
in the absence of a corresponding spirit and deport- 
ment, is decidedly injurious. It tends to lessen a 
sense of accountability, and to shield the conscience 
from the shafts of truth. And it is well, if, from the 
sin of professing a character to which he is' not en- 
titled, the unworthy member does not advance to the 
perpetration of open crime. 

We fear that many persons deceive themselves at this 
point. They could illy bear to scrutinize their own char- 
acters. There is a conscious unholiness which causes 
them to turn, instinctively, from prayerful self-exami- 
nation. The only aspect in which they can, with any 
composure, contemplate themselves, is as members of 
a church. This relation imparts to them a fancied 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 15 

sanctity. Association with the children of God, they 
regard as an evidence of their piety, and they care- 
fully avoid any inquiry into their right to belong to 
such a fellowship. The condition of such an one is 
well nigh hopeless. It is barely possible to awaken 
him to any adequate sense of his danger ; or to cause 
him to form any just conception of his guilt. His sin 
resembles that of Annanias and Saphira. Having 
covenanted to give himself, and all that he has to 
Christ, he has kept back not a part only^ but the whole 
of the price. 

There are those who, though really converted, have 
entered but little into the spirit of the Gospel. They 
are Christians, but they are weak and sickly Chris- 
tians. The religious life with them is low, and its 
pulsations are feeble. They have enough vitality to 
preserve from putrefaction but not for vigorous action. 
Such claim our compassion. Usually, they are quite 
unhappy. Their conscientiousness interrupts worldly 
enjoyment, and they have few spiritual pleasures. 
Harrassed with doubts, their days are gloomy, anii 
their nights are burdened with sighs. The influence 
which they exert is unfavorable to piety. They pre- 
sent religion in a repulsive form, especially to the 
young, the most hopeful subjects of Christian effort. 
The ardent and buoyant feelings of youth are shocked 
and offended by a religion so unsatisfying and melan- 
choly. They are unfitted, too, for efficient labor in 
the cause of Christ. Their attention is so concentra- 



16 INTRODUCTOPwY ESSAY. 

ted upon themselves, that it is difficult to interest 
them for the welfare of others. And if they do be- 
come interested, they are so timid and apprehensive as 
to cripple all their exertions. 

Others, again, have more of spiritual life, but are 
wanting in constancy. When, from peculiar circum- 
stances, they are excited, they manifest strong religious 
feeling, and much interest for the salvation of souls. 
But these feelings soon subside, and they sink into a 
state of indifference. Now it would be difficult to 
discover wherein they differ from the unconverted. 
They appear to be as entirely engrossed by worldly 
cares as those who make no pretensions to piety. 
Whatever time, or attention is yielded by them to re- 
ligious duties seems to be given with reluctance. 
Whatever sacrifice they may make, it is not the cheer- 
ful offering of a willing heart, but the enforced con- 
tribution of an upbraiding conscience. Such incon- 
sistency fatally obstructs the beneficial influence 
which they might exert. Besides the loss of their 
assistance during these periods of backsliding, the 
consistent friends of Christ have reason to deprecate 
their attempts to do good when they are actuated 
by their revived feelings. A suspicion of their sin- 
cerity is induced. And they are quite as likely to re- 
pel with disgust, as to succeed, when they attempt to 
bring sinners to repentance. ^^ Physician, heal thy- 
self," may be expected to be, if not on every tongue, 
in every mind. And men are not willing to receive 
reproof from those in whose piety they do not confide. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 17 

An awakened sinner will distrust the counsel of one 
whose religion he doubts. 

But there are among the disciples of Christ, many 
who afford indubitable evidence of piety. Religion, 
with them, is not a name, or a form. It is a vital, 
active principle. Their lives clearly manifest the 
sanctifying power of the Gospel. They are, living 
" epistles ; known and read of all men." However 
humble, or exalted their position in society, whatever 
may be their vocation, they exert a salutary influence. 
Yet, not unfrequently the characters of those whose 
piety no one doubts, are greatly injured by some un- 
lovely temper, or unamiable habit, or repulsive ec- 
centricity. " He is a good man, but I cannot love 
him. He is so morose, or haughty, or overbearing, — 
I should respect Mr. A. very highly, were it not for 
that disagreeable habit. I wonder that a Christian 
will so indulge. — Mr. B. is a pious man. What a 
pity he is so eccentric." — How often do we hear ex- 
pressions like these. In such cases " the fine gold 
has become dim." The attractive and assimilating 
power of Christian example is counteracted. Preju- 
dices are engendered which it may be impossible to re- 
move — and occasion is afforded to the enemies of the 
Gospel to vilify Christian character. 

In the church, such blemishes are likely to prove a 

sore evil. They tend to weaken the affections, and 

mar the enjoyments of the brotherhood. They are, 

by the nature of the relation, constantly obtruded upon 

their attention, and it demands unusual forbearance 

2 



1 8 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

to prevent them from producing coolness, if not aliena- 
tion. At best they must detract from the sweetness 
of fellowship. The communion of saints, demands, 
for its full enjoyment, the perfect likeness of Christ. 
Whatever want of this is seen in any participant, 
lessens the pleasures of the union. Although a for- 
bearing spirit, strengthened by a sense of personal un- 
worthiness, may enable Christians to overlook, or to 
tolerate many improprieties, it is at the expense of 
that oneness of feeling which is so precious to the child 
of Grod. We may love notwithstanding some evil, or 
unamiable characteristic ; but we cannot so love as we 
should in its absence. Church members sometimes 
complain that their brethren do not love them. Would 
it not be well for such to inquire, whether, in truth, 
they are not unlovely ? Christian affection naturally 
fixes upon those whose deportment is conformed to 
" whatsoever things are pure — lovely — and of good re- 
port." But if any will be unkind, or factious, or dic- 
tatorial, or morose — if they will not take the pains to 
be lovely — let them not complain if they are not be- 
loved. 

An affectionate, tender and earnest fellowship in a 
church is of the greatest importance. It most effec- 
tually commends the Gospel to the confidence of man- 
kind. Where all are united in one heart and one 
spirit, each sharing the sorrows and the joys of every 
one, seeking by every kind attention to promote the 
prosperity and happiness of all, and where all concur 
to maintain the purity, and advance the interests of 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 19 

the church, a spectacle is exhibited upon which God 
looks with delightj and the world with admiration and 
awe. Such a church is indeed an Oasis in the desert; 
and many weary travelers will there rest, and refresh 
their tired spirits. That a Christian should interrupt 
such delightful harmony is most sad. Yet, how often 
do those whom we can but regard as converted men, 
by the want of circumspection, or self-restraint, cause 
bitterness and contention in the churches ! It may 
be doubted whether the larger proportion of strifes 
are not produced by such. Hypocrites and deluded 
persons are not likely so to gain the confidence of the 
godly as to enable them to work the mischiefs which a 
pious, but contentious man may effect. And surely 
it is less to be regretted when the wicked injure the 
cause of Christ. " If it were an enemy, then I could 
have borne it." To be wounded in the house of a 
friend, and by the hand of a friend, is a sore calamity. 

Whether, then, we contemplate the Christian as the 
exponent of the practical power of Christianity — as 
the servant of Christ, sent forth to labor for the salva- 
tion of men, or as a member of a church organized for 
the conversion of the world, we see the importance 
of a living, transforming, earnest piety. It is an ab- 
solute necessity. The want of it unfits him for every 
duty, detracts from the practical influence of the Gos- 
pel, endangers souls, and dishoners the Eedeemer ! 

The churches are beginning to act in the spirit of 
Christianity as an aggressive power. They are hoping, 
and laboring that " the whole earth (may) be filled 



20 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

with (the) glory" of Messiah. The work before them 
is great. The struggle will be arduous and protracted. 
Every soldier of the cross is needed in the conflict. 
None should be irresolute, or inactive. Fully equipped 
in heavenly armour, the entire ^'sacramental host" 
should go forth, '^ conquering and to conquer." How 
needful, then, that from the pulpit, and the press, 
those truths be urged which are suited to correct the 
errors, and to increase the piety of Christians. God 
grant that this book may have such an influence ! 
We can wish no better for either ourselves, the author, 
or the readers, than that its faithful teachings may be 
inscribed upon our hearts, and embodied in our lives. 



LECTURE I. 

LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

The name " Christians ^'^^ first given to the disci- 
ples of Jesus in the city of Antioch, was probably of 
divine origin.* It is appropriate, and very signifi- 
cant. The admirers and pupils of distinguished 
teachers were called after their names. The disci- 
ples of Plato were called Platonist^ — those of Aristo- 
tle were called Aristotelians — and those of Pythago- 
ras were called Pythagoreans. The disciples of Christ 
were early styled Christians. A Christian is a fol- 
lower of Christ — one who receives the Word, trusts in 
the atonement, imbibes the Spirit, imitates the exam- 
ple, obeys the precepts, espouses the cause, and honors 
the name of Christ. Such is the scriptural import of 
the title. 

A Christian is the highest style of man — the wisest, 
best, happiest, noblest of his race. ^^ The righteous 
is more excellent than his neighbor."! To the super- 
ficial observer this superiority may not appear ; but 
it is manifest to Him that searches the heart, and es- 
timates human conduct by the principles from which 
it flows, and the motives by which it is governed. 

* Acts xi : 26. f Pi'O^- ^" • 26. 



22 LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

All the splendor of royalty, all the achievements of 
warriors, all the fruits of science, and all the triumphs 
of genius, dwindle to insignificance in comparison 
with the moral attainments, and enduring immunities 
of the true Christian. 

A faithful delineation of Christian character — its 
various excellences and defects — cannot fail to interest 
and profit the attentive and serious hearer. To this 
object I propose to devote a few Lectures. I shall 
endeavor concisely to describe several classes of Chris- 
tians^ be-ginning with the good^ and closing with the 
defective. 

Under the first general class, we may place Living 
Christians^ G-roiving Christians^ Useful Christians^ 
and Happy Christians. 

To draw the character of Living Christians is the 
aim of the present Lecture. 

All who are called Christians are not Living Chris- 
tians. Some have a name that they live, and are 
dead.* They are Christians in profession, but in 
spirit and practice they are heathen. They may, inr 
deed, have the form of Godliness, but they utterly 
deny its power. They wear the garb, but possess 
not the spirit of Christ. Profession, if any thing bet- 
ter than hypocrisy, succeeds regeneration. Without 
faith, love, and devotion, it is not merely vain, but 
offensive to Grod. It is the garnishing of the sepul- 
chre full of bones and putrefaction. It is offering to 

* Rev. ill: 1. 



LIVING CHRISTIANS. 23 

Grod the halt, the maimedj and the blind in sacrificeo 
Such Christians are dead in the worst sense of the 
word — " dead in trespasses and sins"— dead to God, 
and heaven. Their living bodies are the sepulehers of 
lifeless souls. But the true Christian has life — divine 
life — eternal life. Holiness is to the soul, what life 
is to the body — its beauty, enjoyment and glory. This 
invaluable endowment every believer possesses; for 
faith purifies the heart.* " I am crucified," he 
may say, *^ with Christ ; nevertheless I live ; yet not 
I, but Christ liveth in me ; and the life which I now 
live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, 
who loved me, and gave himself for me."t 

Living Christians are not such by natural hirth, 
A man may be born a king, but not a Christian. He 
may inherit a vigorous constitution, beauty, genius, 
wealth, and an illustrious name, but not piety or grace. 
The sons of God are born " not of blood, nor of the 
flesh, nor of the will of man."J ^' That which is born 
of the flesh is flesh."^ . Descent from Abraham, what- 
ever advantages it secured under the Levitical econo- 
my, is a vain plea for admittance to Christian privi- 
leges. " Think not to say within yourselves," said the 
harbinger of Jesus, to the Pharisees and Sadducees, 
who came to his baptism, ^' We have Abraham to our 
father ; for I say unto you, that God is able of these 
stones to raise up children unto Abraham. "H 

* Acts XV : 9. t G^l- H J 20, % John i : 13. 

§ John ill : 6. || Mat. iii : 9. 



24 LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

" Poets are such by birth 'tis said, 
Nor can by rules of art be made ; 
But not by birth do Christians shine — 
They are new made, by grace divine." 

Living Christians are not the product of mere edu- 
cation. Far be it from me to undervalue the reli- 
gious instruction and training of children. The ex- 
perience of every year convinces me more deeply that 
the religious education of youth is the great business 
of human life. There is reason to hope that children 
properly trained will early become pious. The words 
of Solomon express a general, and most encouraging 
truth — " Train up a child in the way he should go ; 
and when he is old, he will not depart from it."* Still 
it should be borne in mind that religious instruction is 
a means of conversion, not conversion itself. Educa- 
tion may make a mechanic, a sailor, a philosopher, an 
orator, a^ statesman, or a nominal Christian, but not a 
Living Christian, It may polish the exterior, but 
cannot change the heart. It may reform the manners, 
but cannot rectify the principles. Something higher, 
and deeper, and mightier than moral suasion, and out- 
ward discipline, is demanded for man's moral renova- 
tion. 

Living Christians are not made by baptism. What- 
ever may be its uses, or efficacy, it is not Christen- 
ing — ^not making Christians — not regeneration. It 
is taught by very respectable, but not by divine au- 

* Prov. xxii : 6. 



LIVING CHRISTIANS. 25 

thority, that by baptism infants are regenerated, made 
members of the mystical body of Christ, and inheri- 
tors of the kingdom of heaven. It is maintained by 
a modern sect that believers are made Christians by 
baptism. But the Bible teaches that Living Chris- 
tians are the only proper subjects of this ordinance. 
Disciples and Christians are terms used interchang- 
ably in the New Testament. " The disciples were 
first called Christians at Antioch." Disciples are 
Christians, and Christians are disciples ; and disciples 
— Christians — are the only persons divinely required 
to be baptized. " Jesus made and baptized more 
disciples than John"* — first made disciples, or Chris- 
tians — no doubt, Living Christians — and then bap- 
tized them. Baptism is for the living and not for the 
dead — for the regenerate and not for the depraved — 
for Christians and not for the enemies of Christ. 

Living Christians are such by a divine and gracious 
influence. To take away the heart of stone, and give 
a heart of flesh, is God's prerogative. f Some things 
man can do, and some things he cannot. He can 
teach, warn, entreat, pray — can convince the under- 
standing, agitate the passions, and refine the man- 
ners — but, however pious, learned and eloquent, he 
cannot make the waters of contrition flow, subdue the 
love of sin, nor kindle in the heart the flame of love 
and devotion — in a word, cannot impart life to the 
soul. The living Christian is quickened of Grod — 

* John iv ; 1. f Ez. xxxvi : 26. 



26 LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

born of the Spirit — made a partaker of the divine 
nature — raised from the dead — created in Christ 
Jesus unto good works-— has a hidden life— possesses 
eternal life — and this life is sustained by the exhaust- 
less fullness of Christ Jesus.* 

Life, whether physical or spiritual, is not easily de- 
fined. It cannot be analyzed. We are convinced of 
its existence by its effects. Our senses readily dis- 
tinguish a living man from a dead body, though we 
may be unable to say in precisely what the difference 
lies. The difference between a Living and a dead 
Christian is real, wide and obvious, whatever diffi- 
culty there may be in defining, with accuracy and 
clearness, its nature. 

I cannot, perhaps, better explain the nature of 
spiritual life than by furnishing the experience, and 
briefly delineating the character of brother Lively. 
He is, I trust, a Living Christian; though he is 
very far from setting himself up as a model of piety. 
I have selected his case for illustration, partly because 
I am well acquainted with it, and partly because there 
is nothing in his exercises, or attainments, to deter the 
feeblest and most timid believer from indulging the 
hope of equaling, or excelling him in piety. 

I shall give you the early experience of brother 
Lively^ as nearly as I can, in his own words ; and as 
he was fond of telling it, especially in the com- 
mencement of his religious life, in meetings for social 
prayer, I have a pretty distinct recollection of it. 

* John xiv : 19. 



LIVING CHRISTIANS. 27 

" I was brought up," this brother would say, some- 
times with deep emotion, ''in an irreligious family. 
I never heard my father pray. I was not in my youth 
acquainted with a single family in which morning and 
evening devotions were offered to God. There were 
no Sunday schools, and no religious tracts within my 
reach. Residing in a sparsely settled region, I rarely 
heard the Gospel preached ; and. much of the preach- 
ing which I heard was but little adapted to enlighten, 
impress, or interest the mind. My associates were, 
with few exceptions, irreligious, but not vicious. 
Literally, I may say, ' no man cared for my soul.' I 
have no recollection that any human being ever spoke 
a word to me about my salvation, except my mother, 
(who was not herself a professor of religion) until I 
evinced an anxiety on the subject. My mind was 
early impressed with its necessity ; but I supposed it 
was something too good for me — or that I must 
patiently wait until God, in his own good time and 
way, should be pleased to convert me. 

*' I was brought up on a farm. When about seven- 
teen years old, I was ploughing alone. Suddenly, I 
knew not why, I began to think of God. While I 
meditated on his goodness, greatness, and all-pervad- 
ing presence, my mind became so deeply impressed 
with my responsibility to him, my sinfulness, and my 
entire dependence on him, that I trembled in every 
joint, and the tears flowed profusely down my cheeks. 
I bowed for the first time in my life, between the han- 
dles of the plough, to offer prayer to God. After a 



28 LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

short time the tempest of emotion subsided, and the 
pride of my heart began to show itself. I knew that 
no human being had seen me in prayer, and yet I felt 
ashamed — ashamed that even God should have heard 
me pray. My impressions did not, however, quickly 
vanish. I continued for some weeks to pray, and 
grew self-righteous. I began to think myself very 
good — not, indeed, converted, but almost good enough 
to be. On my companions, who were thoughtless and 
worldly, I could but look down with sincere pity. 
Gradually my impressions became feebler, and my 
prayers more infrequent, until I relapsed into my 
former apathy and worldliness. Often, however, my 
conscience would trouble me. I felt that all was not well 
within. I dared not to think of death and judgment. 
The death of an acquaintance, an earnest sermon, any 
religious book or tract, which might chance to fall in 
my way, would quicken my conscience, rouse my fears, 
and set me on a course of self-righteous labors. Of 
the plan of salvation I had no knowledge. All my 
conceptions on the subject of religion were exceed- 
ingly crude and superstitious. But the time ap- 
proached when, through the mercy of God, I was to re- 
ceive light and peace. 

" A meeting of several days' continuance was ap- 
pointed to be held in the neighborhood where I re- 
sided. The churches had passed through a long, 
wintry season ; but the faithful laborers in the Lord's 
vineyard began to see signs of approaching spring. 
On the third and last day of the meeting, a glorious 



LIVING CHRISTIANS. 29 

revival commenced. I was among the first who felt 
the power of divine trath. I had often listened to 
the same ministers preaching the same truth ; but it 
had a light and power which made it appear to me 
entirely new. I had never heard such preaching be- 
fore. It seemed to search and penetrate my inmost 
soul. Many were as deeply affected by it as I was. 
I left the meeting fully resolved to become religious 
as soon as possible ; nor did I doubt my ability to 
carry out my resolution. Indeed, I possessed an am- 
bitious desire to outstrip my young companions, many 
of whom seemed inclined to enter on the Christian race. 
I supposed I must make myself good enough for God 
to convert me, and entered earnestly on a course of 
self-reformation. I abandoned all my known sins — 
meditated incessantly on the subject of religion — 
prayed often — wept much — attended all religious 
meetings within my reach, which were now greatly 
multiplied — at my own request was made the subject 
of special prayer — and, for a short time, I seemed to 
be making very satisfactory progress towards the 
kingdom of heaven. I deemed myself almost good 
enough to be saved. It was not long, however, before 
I began to discover the depravity of my heart. 
Surely, no poor wretch was ever more distressingly 
exercised than I was, for a season, with the corruptions 
of his nature. My heart seemed to be full of pride, 
selfishness, enmity against God, and especially deceit, 
which appeared to mingle with all my efforts to be- 
come religious. Thoughts, foolish, impure, and bias- 



30 LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

phemous, such as I had never been conscious of be- 
fore, were constantly haunting my mind. My heart, 
which at first was tender, became as hard as a stone. 
Neither the love of Christ, the joys of heaven, nor the 
terrors of death and hell, could move it. The fountain 
of my tears was sealed up. If my salvation had been 
suspended upon my weeping, I could not have wept. 
My prayers were but a chattering noise, the babblings 
of a confused brain, without faith, and without fer- 
vor, I now almost despaired of salvation. I seemed 
to myself much farther from conversion than I was in 
the beginning of my exercises. I knew not what to 
do. To advance I could not ; to return I had no de- 
sire. My ambitious hope of out-running my compan- 
ions was slain. I saw and felt that my condemna- 
tion before God was just. 

In this state of mind, I attended a religious meet- 
ing. A song was sung which described the sufferings 
of Christ. The poetry was bad, but the sentiment 
was evangelical, and made a deep impression on my 
mind. I thought of the Saviour's love, and sufferings, 
and death; and I asked myself, Did the Son of God 
endure all this for me ? It seemed impossible. The 
mercy was too great for me. I was undeserving such 
favor, and ought hardly to receive it, if I might. 
While I was musing my heart dissolved, and my eyes, 
so long dry, poured out streams of tears. If I have 
ever known what sorrow was, I felt the deepest sorrow 
that I had offended and dishonored the greatest and 
best of Beings — my true and only Friend. Then I 



'living christians, 31 

hated my sins, and felt resolved, that, whether I was 
saved or lost, I would endeavor to sin no more. Then, 
I think, I began to be a penitent. Still an impene- 
trable cloud concealed from my mind the scheme of 
salvation. 

" A few days after this, I attended a meeting many 
miles from my place of residence. At night I enjoyed 
the hospitality of a good man who lived near the 
meeting-place, and at whose house, according to the 
custom of the country, an evening service was held. 
The congregation had assembled, and the religious 
exercises had commenced. My own mind was ab- 
sorbed in meditation on my lost and wretched condi- 
tion. A godly and excellent minister, who evinced a 
deep concern for my salvation, had, repeatedly and most 
affectionately, pointed me to Christ, as the all-suffi- 
cient Saviour, and urged me to believe in him. To 
assist my faith, he had cited the words, ^ Lord, I be- 
lieve ; help thou my unbelief,'* If I were to say a 
thousand times I endeavored to utter the words, I do 
not think I should speak extravagantly : but I could 
not, I dared not utter them. I feared I should be 
adding to all my other sins the sin of hypocrisy. 
What it was to believe I could not comprehend. To 
me it seemed that I might as well attempt to make a 
world as exercise faith. On the evening referred to, 
a new feeling pervaded my heart. I felt that I could 
believe in Christ; and I mentally said, not as I had 

* Mat. ix : 2L 



S2 LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

often said, ^ Lord, I would believe/ but, ^ Lord, I 
believe J help thou my unbelief.' Instantly my heart 
smote me for uttering a falsehood. This could not 
be faith. It was too simple. It bore no resemblance 
to the faith which I had been laboring to exercise. 
If this is faith, thought I, I might as well have be- 
lieved a month ago. While I was thus meditating, 
the impression on my mind became stroDger, and I 
repeated the words, with emphasis, * Lord, I do be- 
lieve; help thou my unbelief.' I had no new light, 
no strong impulse, but I felt a firm, calm, sweet, in- 
spiring confidence in Christ. My heart was humbled, 
subdued, penitent. I had such a persuasion of the 
wisdom, mercy, and power of Christ, that I was per- 
fectly willing to commit my soul to his hands. My 
burden of guilt, my fear, my anxiety, were all gone. 
For many weeks my sleep had been disturbed and 
restless : that night I laid down and slept, as if I had 
been in Paradise. 

" In the morning, I arose. It was a bright, autum- 
nal morning. I walked into the open air. The sur- 
rounding scenery was beautiful and grand. The 
towering mountains, of various forms, and in every 
direction, were covered with the gay and variegated 
livery of October. Never had creation seemed to me 
so charming. Every thing was full of God. The 
mountains and the hills broke forth into singing, and 
all the trees of the forest clapped their hands. The 
grass that sprang at my feet proclaimed the power and 
goodness of the Lord. Never had I listened to such 



LIVING CHRISTIANS. 33 

a symphony of praise ; and my poor heart, long bruised 
and burdened, spontaneously joined in the grateful 
homage. I chid myself that I, a sinner, condemned, 
and possibly abandoned to destruction, should have 
the madness to offer praise to God. But the deep 
feeling of my heart was not to be repressed by the 
cold surmisings of scepticism. To all these doubts 
my heart replied, What if I am a sinner, condemned 
and doomed to hell, shall I not praise Grod that I am 
not now there, and that I have enjoyed so many mer- 
cies at his hands ? 

*^ I retired to the forest, and in a deep and secluded 
ravine, bowed my knees to pray. I had never before of- 
fered a prayer for any being except myself I soon 
found my heart irresistibly drawn out to offer prayer for 
my parents — my sisters and brothers — my widening 
circle of kindred — my unconverted companions and 
acquaintances — and still my petitions were enlarged, 
until they embraced the whole world. I was a wonder 
to myself. Setting my face toward the abode of my 
hospitable friend, I soon met the venerated minister, 
whose labors had contributed most to my guidance 
and encouragement. Having marked the change in 
my countenance, he kindly inquired after the state of 
my mind. I most gladly revealed to him my exer- 
cises. After hearing my statements, he said, with a 
smile, 'You are converted.' I knew not whether I 
was more astonished or delighted at the remark. The 
thought that I was converted had not so much as 
entered my head. This was not the conversion for 

3 



34 LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

wHich I had been long seeking. I had expected, mis- 
guided, I know not how, to feel a sudden shock — to 
have some wonderful manifestation — to experience 
some mysterious transformation — and I had only 
found a calm, confiding, loving, obedient, and joyous 
spirit. I sought the Lord in the tempest, the fire, and 
the earthquake ; but^ lo ! I found him, if I had found 
l^im at all, ' in the still small voice.' " 

Here I must drop the experience of brother LAvely. 
He came to the conclusion, not from the judgment of his 
devoted pastor, but from a comparison of his experience 
with the word of God, that he had " passed from death 
unto life." In that conclusion we may charitably con- 
cur. There is in various respects a resemblance be- 
tween natural and spiritual life — between a living man 
and a Living Christian. The properties of physical 
life may be aptly employed to illustrate the nature of 
spiritual life. 

Is sensibility a sign of life ? The spiritual sensi- 
bility of brother Lively indicates that he possesses 
life. Divine truth makes suitable and abiding im- 
pressions on his heart. He believes when God af- 
firms, trusts when God promises, trembles when God 
threatens, and accords a cheerful obedience when God 
commands. By God's providences^ he is filled with 
adoring gratitude, or humble submission, as they are 
gracious or afflictive. He remembers his sins and im- 
perfections with unfeigned contrition and self-abase- 
ment; and joyfully contemplates the ample provision 
made by Christ for the salvation and eternal blessed- 



LIVING CHRISTIANS. 35 

ness of them that trust in him. His spiritual sensi- 
bility, if I may be permitted to use the phrase, marks 
him out as one that has " passed from death unto 
life." 

Is breath a mark of vitality ? 

• *' Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, 
The Christian's native air." 

He that lives without prayer lives without Grod. That 
sincere, believing prayer is an element of true piety 
n^eds no proof. The spiritual life can no more be 
sustained without prayer than the physical without 
breatL 

^' Long as they live should Christians pray, 
For only while they pray they live." 

Brother Lively is a man of prayer. In his closet — 
in his family — in the meetings for social worship — he 
prays, and loves to pray. He does not always enjoy 
in the same degree ^^ the spirit of grace and of sup- 
plications," but he would ever consider it a great 
calamity to be deprived of the privilege of coming 
boldly unto the throne of grace, that he ^^ may ob- 
tain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." 

Is appetite a sign of life ? God has made the preser- 
vation of every kind of life, of which we have any 
knowledge, to depend on nutrition. Vegetable life is 
nourished by the soil, the air, moisture and light ; and 
animal life by food and drink. God's word- — divine 
truth — is the appointed nutriment of the spiritual 



36 LIVING CHRISTIANS, 

man. Brother Lively hungers for this food. As a 
new born babe, he desires the sincere milk of the word, 
that he may grow thereby.* No infant ever more 
naturally and earnestly desired the milk from its 
mother's breast, than he desires his appointed nourish- 
ment. He hungers and thirsts after righteousness, and 
is equally concerned to enjoy the means of its attain- 
ment. As the hunted hart, weary and exhausted, 
pants after the cooling brook, so he pants after God — 
the living God.f And brother Lively furnishes this 
proof that he loves the word of God — he reads, 
studies, and obeys it — makes it his sword and shield 
in battle, his staff in the journey of life, his light in 
darkness, and his solace in affliction. 

Is activity an indication of life ? Brother Lively 
is an active Christian. His faith is not a barren 
speculation, but a deep, vital, fruitful principle. His 
ardent emotions do not evaporate in good wishes, and 
fair words. He lives not for himself; seeks not 
mainly his own interest, gratification or glory. Having 
been redeemed by the blood of Christ, and sanctified 
by the spirit of grace, he is constrained to present his 
body — himself — '^ a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable 
to God," which he deems his '' reasonable service."! 
Had he ten thousand hearts, ten thousand lives, ten 
thousand worlds, he would give them all to Christ, and 
feel that his debt of gratitude was in no degree 
diminished. Such, at least, were the feelings, pur- 

* 1 Peter ii : 2. f ^sa. xlii : 4. :j: Rom. xii : 1. 



LIVING CHRISTIANS. 37 

poses and vows of this brother at the time of his 
espousal to Christ; and though, in subsequent life, 
amid the chilling influences, and seductive fascinations 
of the world, he may have failed to realize his early 
hopes, and fulfill his early promise, yet in his coldest, 
darkest hours, he has " pressed toward the mark for 
the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus."* 
I will close this lecture with two or three remarks — 
1. An experience — a Christian experience,!^ essen- 
tial to the existence of living piety. There may, in- 
deed, be a profession of religion — a form of godli- 
ness — a heartless orthodoxy — without any exercises 
deserving the name of Christian experience. I am 
aware that there are not a few religionists who look 
on religious experience as the imaginings of a weak, 
or the pretences of a corrupt mind. But can a man 
pass " from death unto life"! — have the eyes of his 
understanding enlightened \ — and be " created in 
Christ Jesus unto good works''^ — and not have an 
experience — differing not merely in degree, but kind, 
from any thing ever felt by the ^^ natural man ?" He 
may, indeed, be ignorant of the precise time of his 
conversion, or he may doubt whether his exercises 
have been of a gracious character ; but he knows, and 
cannot but know, that his emotions have been various, 
deep, and influential. He could as soon doubt his 
existence, or renounce his hope of salvation, as his ex- 
perience. 

'^Phil.iii; 14. fJnO'iii^ 14. :[: Eph. 1 : 18. §Eph. ii:10. 



38 LIVING CHRISTIANS. 

2. We should carefully distinguish between what is 
essential and what is circumstantial in Christian 
experience. Much has improperly passed under this 
name. The dreams of the ignorant, the fancies of the 
enthusiastic, the speculations of the curious, the illu- 
sions of the superstitious, and all these mingled in 
every conceivable variety, have been called Christian ex 
perience, and have, by their bitter fruits, brought suspi- 
cion and reproach on the genuine article. Every good 
thing is liable to be counterfeited; and Christian ex- 
perience would lack one mark of excellence if it was 
exempted from this law. All that glitters is not 
gold ; yet there is gold, " yea, fine gold." It is not 
unfrequently found, too, that genuine experience is 
mixed with much that is fanciful, extravagant and per- 
nicious. The experiences of well instructed Christians 
frequently differ widely. They are greatly modified 
by temperament, early training, and other circum- 
stances. The experience of no two believers is pre- 
cisely the same. Some are converted suddenly, others 
by a long and tedious process — in some the under- 
standing is more exercised, in others the emotions — 
some embrace Christ with strong, unwavering confi- 
dence, others with trembling and hesitation— some are 
filled with love, gratitude and joy, others with doubts, 
fears and anxiety — and these exercises are combined 
in every imaginable diversity. But still there are 
certain points found in the experience of every Living 
Christian, Convictions of sin — a sense of the jus- 
tice of condemnation — godly sorrow — the hearty re- 



LIVING CHRISTIANS. 39 

nunciation of sin — trust in Christ for salvation — hu- 
mility, gratitude, love, obedience — the hope of eternal 
life — these are the essential elements of piety, and 
they exist, in various proportions, and combinations, 
in every vital Christian. The time — the place — the 
circumstances of conversion are of little moment, pro- 
vided the great, saving change has taken place in the 
conscious, willing, responsible and deathless spirit — a 
change controlling the outward, as well as the inward 
man. 

3. No experience should be deemed genuine which 
does not lead to a steady^ persevering life of piety. 
No measure of knowledge — no boasted orthodoxy — 
no intensity of feelings — can be a substitute for the 
" fruits of righteousness." If the tree be good, the 
fruit will be good. The gracious influence, by which 
experience is produced, is designed and suited to make 
men self-denying, patient, holy, heavenly; and when 
these fruits are not produced it has not been exerted. 
" I am the vine," said Jesus to his disciples, ^' ye are 
the Branches : he that abideth in me, and I in him, 
the same bringeth forth much fruit ; for without me 
ye can do nothing. If a man abide not in me, he is 
cast forth as a branch, and withered : and men gather 
them and cast them into the fire, and they are 
burned."* 

*John XV; 6-6. 



LECTURE II. 

GROWING CHRISTIANS. 

I DEVOTE the Lecture of this evening to the deline- 
ation of Growing Christians, 

There is through the whole extent of living beings 
a tendency to growth, enlargement, and maturity. 
We perceive it in the vegetable, animal and intellec- 
tual kingdoms. By the established law of growth 
and progress, the twig becomes a tree, the child a 
man, and the novice a philosopher. The same law 
prevails in the moral kingdom. 

On this principle, bad men grow worse. Their evil 
propensities are strengthened by indulgence; their 
sinful practices are gradually changed into habits ; 
and their unrestrained habits become more inveterate 
and uncontrollable. ^' Evil men and seducers •shall 
wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived."* 
By the same principle, good men grow better. " The 
path of the just is as the shining light, that shine th 
more and more unto the perfect day."t Christians 
are exhorted to ^^grow in grace" — or moral excellence 
and beauty ; and this required increase is illustrated 
by the growth in nature. As in the vegetable so in 
the spiritual kingdom, there is " first the blade, then 

* 2 Tim. iii : 13. f Pi'ov. iv : 15. 



GROWING CHRISTIANS. 41 

the ear, after that the full corn in the ear."* We 
have, in the kingdom of grace, as in the kingdom of 
nature, " little children " — " young men " — and " fa- 
thers;" and these expressions are descriptive of Chris- 
tians in different stages of their increase and matu- 
rity.! 

The growth of Christians consists — 

1. In an increase of Knowledge, ^^ Grow in the 
knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,"^ 
is the precept of an inspired apostle. The knowledge 
of a sound, active mind, is necessarily progressive. 
Observation and experience constantly increase the 
stock of its ideas, and extend the range of its vision. 
The young convert, even if he has been favored with 
careful religious training, possesses but comparatively 
little knowledge. His state is characterized by feel- 
ing, rather than light : but he has, in some degree, 
learned the " excellency of the knowledge of Christ 
Jesus." He is not wise in his own conceit, but con- 
scious of his ignorance and fallibility. He prizes the 
knowledge of divine things above silver and gold, and 
earnestly seeks for it as for hid treasure. He studies 
the workings of his own heart, as well as the word and 
ways of Grod. He becomes better acquainted with 
himself; his weakness, poverty, and unworthiness ; 
his temptations, dangers, and necessities. And as he 
learnsmoreof his own insufficiency and wretchedness, he 
perceives more clearly, and appreciates more fully the 

* Mat. iv : 26-28. t J^^o. ii : 13. % I'et. iii ; 18. 



4P GROWING CHRISTIANS. 

suitableness, freeness, and glory of his Redeemer. 
His views of divine things become more clear, consis- 
tent, and satisfactory. Attaining to full age, he 
has his senses exercised to discern both good and 
evil. 

2. An increase of Holiness. In the young convert 
the work of sanctification is only commenced. His 
principles, desires, and aims are holy; he is sincere, 
conscientious, and ardent ; but he is far from being 
perfect. His feelings are variable, his zeal is not tem- 
pered by discretion, and his piety is without symme- 
try. But in the growing Christian all the elements 
of moral goodness are increased. His " faith groweth 
exceedingly ;" he *^ abounds in hope, through the power 
of the Holy Ghost;" above all things, he puts on 
" charity, which is the bond of perfectness;" as he 
rises in piety, he sinks in humility ; by degrees, he 
acquires a more perfect control of his appetites and 
passions ; as he learns more of his own heart, he be- 
comes more watchful against temptation ; and as he 
feels more deeply his own weakness, he becomes more 
fervent and constant in prayer. As the members of 
the body, so the graces of the soul gain strength and 
consistency from exercise. 

Am la Growing Christian ? I propose to notice 
some of the signs by which a growing Christian is dis- 
tinguished. I name— 

1 . He is dissatisfied with his religious attainments. 
It is not the growing, but the luke-warm Christian, 
who says — " I am rich, and increased with goods, and 



GROWING CHRISTIANS. 43 

have need of nothing."* It was not the contrite pub- 
lican, but the self-righteous pharisee, who said — " God, 
I thank thee that I am not as other men are."t A 
diligent, faithful Christian may make high attainments 
in the divine life. His knowledge may be compre- 
hensive, thorough and efficacious; his experience of 
divine things deep, varied and abiding; his deport- 
ment a shining commentary on the truth and efficacy 
of the Gospel ; and, in fine, he may bo a Christian, 
whom an inspired apostle would describe as " a dearly 
beloved brother;" but he can never attain to a point 
at which he is content to stop. He, who has reached 
the mountain-top, has missed the road to Heaven. 
This road lies through the vale of humility and self- 
abasement. A man who desires no higher religious 
attainments has yet to learn the first principles of 
piety. The apostle Paul was not merely a growing, 
but a well-grown Christian. In vain may we expect 
to find his equal, not to say in gifts, labors, and use- 
fulness, but in all the elements of moral goodness and 
greatness; in faith, humility, disinterestedness and 
heroism ; and yet this distinguished man laid no claim 
to perfection. ^^ Not," said he, '' as though I had al- 
resady attained, either were already perfect. "J Let 
every professing Christian then understand that, if he 
is satisfied with his present attainments, whatever else 
he may be, he is not a Growing Christian, 
2. The Grooving Christian earnestly desires an 171- 

* Rev. iii : 17 t I^^ike xviii : 11. % Phil, iii : 12. 



44 GROWING CHRISTIANS. 

crease of holiness. He perceives its beauty, excel- 
lence and importance ; and that he can neither te 
happy, nor safe, nor useful, without it. He relishes, 
longs for it, as the weary, thirsty traveler for water. 
He may desire many things ; but he desires nothing so 
much as grace. Nothing else can satisfy him. This 
is the craving of his spiritual nature ; and it can no 
more be satisfied with secular good, than a starving 
m.an can be with gold, or a man dying of the gout, with 
music. The apostle of the Gen tiles, far from being con- 
tent with his spiritual attainments, anxiously, earnestly 
and diligently sought a higher measure of holiness. 
" I press," these are his emphatic words — '^ I press 
towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of 
God in Christ Jesus."* That mark is perfection ; 
and that pressing was the earnest struggle of the 
apostle to reach it. Those who fervently desire an 
increase of holiness are sure not to be disappointed. 
If we desire wealth, or honor, or health, or any earthly 
good, God, in wisdom and kindness, may withhold it 
from us ; but if we desire religious growth and ma- 
turity, he will delight to gratify us. They that hunger 
and thirst after righteousness shall be filled, f " If 
thou seekest her" — wisdom — another name for holi- 
ness — " as silver, and searchest for her as hid trea- 
sure ; then shalt thou understand the fear of the 
Lord and find the knowledge of God. "J In the 
absence of this desire — this longing after holiness, 

* Phil, iii : 14. t Mat. v ; 6. % Prov. ii ; 14. 



GROWING CHRISTIANS. 45 

there can 1)6 no spiritual growth. As well might the 
outward man thrive and strengthen without appe- 
tite or food, as the inward man be renewed and in- 
vigorated without the thirst for holiness, and the ap- 
propriate means of its indulgence. 

3. There is an increasing spi/rituality in the reli- 
^gious exercises of a Growing Christian. The danger 
of most Christians is not that of indulging in gross im- 
morality, or wholly neglecting the forms of religion. 
From these evils they are restrained by a regard to 
consistency, their reputation in the world, and their 
standing in the church. They know that profanity, 
intemperance or dishonesty would subject them, not 
only to exclusion from church privileges, but to the 
charges of hypocrisy or apostacy, and the scorn of 
virtuous men ; and they recoil from these conse- 
quences. But professing Christians may substitute 
the form for the spirit of godliness without serious 
risk of exclusion from the church, or reproach from 
the world ; nay, this very heartlessness may be com- 
mended by a respectable class of religionists as free- 
dom from enthusiasm, and a proof of manly sense. 
This formality is the besetting sin of Christians. We 
perceive it in the coldness of their devotions, their ne- 
glect of religious duties, and the worldliness of their 
spirit and conversation. This evil is insidious, pre- 
valent and pernicious — the reproach of the church, 
and the stumbling block of the world ; but from it 
the growing Christian is exempt. He serves Christ 
with increasing spirituality and life. As he learns 



46 GROWING CHRISTIANS. 

more of Christ, lie loves him more fervently ; and as 
he loves him more fervently, he serves him more joy- 
fully. The word of Christ is his meditation and de- 
light ; prayer is the very breathing of his inmost 
soul ; the house of God is his chosen, pleasing home ; 
the disciples of Christ are his constant companions ; 
and to him the yoke of Christ is easy, and his bur* 
den light. Such a Christian you will not find in 
places of vain and dissipating amusement, or of ques- 
tionable character ; but you will be sure to find him, 
if Providence does not prevent his presence, in the 
prayer and conference meetings, and wherever spiri- 
tual good may be obtained or communicated. The 
Psalmist describes the spiritually minded man — '^ Plis 
delight is in the law of the Lord ; and in his law doth 
he meditate day and night." That such a man should 
increase in knowledge, piety and usefulness, might be 
reasonably inferred ; but we are not left to uncertain 
inference on this point. We are informed by the 
same sacred writer that ^' He shall be like a tree 
planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth 
his fruit in his season ; his leaf also shall not wither ; 
and whatsoever he doth shall prosper."* No more 
beautiful emblem of growth and prosperity can be 
furnished than a tree, standing on the fertile bank 
of a river, covered with green and unfading foliage, 
and yielding abundant fruit — such is the spiritually 
minded Christian. 

4. The Growing Christian has an increasing con- 

*Psa. i: 2-3. 



GROWING CHRISTIANS. 47 

viction that God is the supreme and all-sufficient 
good of intelligent creatures. That he can satisfy 
the desires of an immortal mind, is a well established 
article of every Christian's creed. God, the infinite 
fountain of good, can, either with or without means, 
fill, to its utmost capacity for bliss, the soul of man. 
"There be many that say, who will show us any 
good ?" And the man divinely instructed will pray 
with David — " Lord, lift thou up the light of thy 
countenance upon us."* The more holy any man is 
the less his happiness depends on creatures. The un- 
regenerate seek their happiness wholly from the world. 
All their views, interests, aims and hopes are circum- 
scribed by its narrow limits. They are utter strangers 
to every source of enjoyment which is not opened by 
its treasures, its occupations, or its amusements. Per- 
sons, who are sanctified in part, derive their happiness 
partly from the world, and partly from God. Their 
afi'ections, aims and pursuits, and consequently their 
enjoyments, are divided. Their religious joys are 
occasional, imperfect, and mingled with secular plea- 
sures. And this, with variations to the one side or 
the other, is the state of the mass of Christians in the 
world. But the matured Christian can be happy, not 
only without the world, but in defiance of it. Strip 
him of all creature good ; and he can and will rejoice 
in the light of God's countenance. As in prosperity 
he enjoys God in all things, so in adversity he enjoys 

*Psa. iv; 6. 



48 GROWING CHPaSTIANS. 

all things in God. The Christian may be poor, de- 
spised, diseased, and cut off from all earthly hope ; 
but, if his faith be strong and his love to Christ fer- 
vent, he will possess a peace which the vain and am- 
bitious occupant of a palace might envy. ^' Although 
the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall the fruit 
be in the vines ; the labor of the olive shall fail, and 
the fields shall yield no meat ; and the flock shall be 
cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in 
the stalls : yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy 
in the God of my salvation."* The prophet de- 
scribes, in glowing and prophetic language, a famine, 
with all its desolating effects. There" should be no 
vintage, no olives, and the fig-tree should not even 
blossom ; the fields shoul(^ be parched and verdure- 
less ; and the flocks and herds should perish. Can a 
scene of greater desolation be imagined ? And yet, 
amid all this waste and ruin, the pious prophet could 
rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of his salva- 
tion. Now, it is clear, that as Christians increase in 
knowledge and holiness, they approximate that state 
of happiness which is above worldly contingencies, 
and depends only on God. 

5. The Groiving Christian has an augmenting 
solicitude for the salvation of sinners. This solici- 
tude is an essential element of true piety. The man 
who is anxious for his own salvation, and unconcerned 
about that of others, is under the dominion of a cul- 

* Hab. iii : 17-18. 



GROWma- CHRISTIANS. 49 

pable selfishness ; and differs widely from the man of 
Tarsus J who said — " Brethren, my heart's desire and 
prayer to God for Israel is, that they might be saved." 
One of the first and deepest emotions of a new born 
soul is desire for the salvation of a relative, a friend, 
an acquaintance, and the extending circle of pious 
solicitude soon embraces the human race. This feel- 
ing is in the young convert most fervent, but in the 
matured Christian most efficient. To ascertain the 
strength of this affection, we must inquire what sacri- 
fices it will make, and what labors it will perform, for 
the attainment of its object. Estimate its power in 
the apostle Paul by this sign. His life was a series 
of toils, sacrifices and sufferings, voluntarily and 
cheerfully undergone, to secure the salvation of men, 
who, with few exceptions, hated, reviled and perse- 
cuted him, Asia and Europe were the field, his abili- 
ties were the limit, and his life was the duration of 
his exertions in this noble cause. To all these efforts 
and sacrifices he was impelled by an anxious, burning 
desire that sinners might be saved. So intense was 
this desire that he would willingly have suffered the 
most dreadful curse, if by so doing he might be the 
means of their salvation. '^ For I could," said he, 
" wish myself accursed from Christ, for my brethren, 
my kinsmen, according to the flesh.* In many modern 
missionaries this sign of piety has stood out in bold 
relief. The severance of the ties which bound them 

*Rom. ix; 3, 



50 GROWING CimiSTIANSo 

to home and kindred, their residence in inhospita- 
ble climes, their patient toils, and various sufferings, 
and their steady perseverance through years of dis- 
couragement, furnished proof of their longing desire 
for the salvation of souls. The growing Christian 
then must have an increasing solicitude for the re- 
demption of sinners — a solicitude which will evince 
itself in appropriate efforts and sacrifices to attain its 
object. The Christian, who is " at ease in Zion/' 
who can contemplate without anxiety her desolations, 
the prevalence of sin in the world, and countless mul- 
titudes traveling, with unfaltering and rapid steps, in 
the broad road to destruction, should assuredly know 
that he is not a growing, if, indeed, he be any more 
than a nominal, Christian. 

6. The character of a Groiving Christian becomes 
more and more consistent and beautiful , The young 
convert has many excellencies, and is likely to have 
many defects. He has more zeal than knowledge, 
more emotion than principle, more flowers than fruit. 
In the living, growing Christian these defects are 
gradually obliterated, and these excellencies are im- 
proved ; and in the full grown Christian there is a 
beautiful symmetry of character, in which there is 
neither lack nor redundancy. His knowledge is un- 
yielding without dogmatism ; his fervor is effective 
without enthusiasm ; his liberality is noble without 
ostentation ; his good works are abundant without 
self-righteousness ; and his piety is sincere without 
bigotry. His religion does not depend, as that of 



GROWING CHRISTIANS. 51 

many persons does, on times, and places, and circum- 
stances, and impulses ; but on deep and abiding prin- 
ciple. At home or abroad, among friends or stran- 
gers, in prosperity or adversity, when Christianity is 
extolled or persecuted, he fears God and keeps his 
commandments. His character, in short, is accurately 
delineated by the pen of inspiration — " Finally, breth- 
ren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are 
honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are 
pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things 
are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there 
be any praise, think on these things."* The character 
in which are mingled, as the primary colors in the 
rainbow, truth and honesty, and justice, and purity, 
and loveliness, with whatever is of good report, with 
all that is called virtue, and all that deserves praise, 
is the character of a matured Christian ; and to this 
consummation, devoutly to be desired, the growing 
Christian is steadily, and joyfully approximating. 

Do you inquire, my dear brethren, hy what means 
your groicth in grace may be promoted ? The ques- 
tion is important, and deserves a well-considered an- 
swer. If you are not Groiving Christians^ it is not 
because your heavenly Father has not made ample 
provision for your spiritual nourishment. ^^ The sin- 
cere,'' or " pure milk of the Word," is the food which 
he has furnished for the sustentation and growth of the 
babes of his family — ^young converts — inexperienced 

* Phil, iv : 8. 



52 GROWING CHRISTIANS. 

and feeble Christians.* He has also provided " strong 
meat" for " them that are of full age, even those who, 
by reason of use, have their senses exercised to dis- 
cern both good and evil."t The ordinances of God — 
teaching, baptism, and the Lord's supper — are design- 
ed to convey the appropriate nourishment to the Lord's 
household — to open the Word to their minds, and 
impress it on their hearts. And the Holy Spirit, 
which the Father richly bestows on them that seek 
his influence, is commissioned to give efficacy to the 
Divine Word. They aVe ^^ purified," which is but 
another word to denote their spiritual growth — " in 
obeying the truth through the Spirit. "J 

I cannot, however, more clearly elucidate the means 
of promoting growth in grace than by giving a brief 
account of the religious improvement of brother Tim- 
othy Strong. 

When he first made a profession of religion, he was 
young, poor, illiterate, encumbered with the cares of 
a growing family ; and his associations were not favor- 
able to his increase in knowledge and piety. He be- 
came, however, in a few years, notwithstanding all his 
disadvantages, an eminently intelligent, pious, and 
useful Christian. His spiritual growth was steady, 
rapid, and healthful. He died in mid-life, with a 
joyous hope of immortality, lamented by a wide cir- 
cle of friends and admirers, leaving behind him the 
precious fruits of his labors, and a vacuum in the 

* 1 Pet. ii : 2. t Heb. v : 14. :j: 1 Pet. i : 22. 



GROWING CHRISTIANS. 53 

church and in the community which no man could 
fill. 

I was led to inquire for the secret of his religious 
growth and influence. I made a pilgrimage to the 
^^ chamber where the good man" met *' his fate," and 
the grassy mound which marked the resting place of 
his mortal part. Here I learned from his bereaved 
family the secret of his remarkable religious improve- 
ment and eminent usefulness. I got a view of his 
daily companion — his closet Bible. Oh, it was a 
sight worth seeing ! It was a well-bound pocket 
Bible, printed at Oxford, with copious references. 
Never have I seen such marks of use in any Bible. 
Every page, and in some chapters almost every verse, 
had marginal references made with his own hand; 
and so intense was his application to the study of the 
Scriptures, and so tenacious was his memory, that he 
knew at a glance for what purpose every mark was 
made. He was a man of one book ; and so thoroughly 
had he inscribed its contents on his own heart, that 
his children thought it quite a triumph when they 
eould ask him any question from the Bible which he 
could not promptly answer, without referring to it. 
Nor did he study the Scriptures as a mere literary 
repast. They were received, with unquestioning do- 
cility, as God's message to him — his food, his trea- 
sure, his salvation. 

Another source of his religious growth was reveal- 
ed. Prayer was his constant employment. He had 
stated hours for secret devotion ; and nothing but 



$4 GROWING CHRISTIANS. 

stern necessity could divert from his plan. He 
might neglect his secular engagements — his regular 
meals — and necessary sleep ; but he would not ne- 
glect secret prayer ; for said he, " Daily converse with 
all the apostles would not be a substitute for it.'' As 
he resided in the country, he usually retired to some 
unfrequented and silent forest, where he might hold un- 
interrupted communion with his Grod. Here, in imi- 
tation of his Master, he would " offer up prayers and 
supplications, with strong crying and tears." Some- 
times he would be so deeply affected by divine things, 
and his mind would be so entirely absorbed in the ex- 
ercise of prayer, that his voice might be heard a dis- 
tance of several hundreds of paces, when he was un- 
conscious of speaking above his breath. A very deep 
impression was made on the minds of many by the 
solemn and earnest tones of his suppliant voice, in the 
distant and solitary woodland. It seemed, indeed, 
as if a worm of the earth was in audience with the 
majesty of the universe. At other times in the still 
hours of the night, supposing that none but Grod could 
hear him, he would rise from his bed, and spend long 
seasons in fervent supplications. 

It can surprise no one acquainted with the excellence 
of God's word — its adaptation to nourish, strengthen, 
and beautify the soul — and the efficacy of earnest and 
believing prayer, to learn that brother Timothy 
Strong was a Growing^ and that he soon became a 
matured Christian — as strict in the performance of pri-. 
vate as of public duties— willing to make great sacri- 



GROWING CHRISTIANS. 55 

fices in the cause of Christ — preferring truth to popu- 
larity — treasures in heaven to treasures on earth — 
and faithful rebuke to indiscreet praise — that his life 
was singularly useful, and his death not merely peace- 
ful, but triumphant and glorious — and that his loss 
was bewailed as a great public calamity. 

But, why, my brethren, should not each one of you 
be as holy and as fruitful as was this good man ? It 
was not his genius, his learning, or his peculiar privi- 
leges that made him a growing, consistent and useful 
Christian, but communion with his Bible, and com- 
munion with his God — privileges that maybe enjoyed 
by us all. Depend on it,* if we are not growing, fruit- 
bearing Christians, the fault is our own. We neglect 
the lively oracles, the unfailing source of light and 
wisdom, and the throne of grace, whence our strength, 
comfort and efficiency must proceed. 

Let us then aspire after eminent attainments in the 
divine life. Here our aspirations cannot be too lofty, 
or too fervent. " The desire of power in excess caused 
angels to fall; the desire of knowledge in excess 
caused man to fall; but in charity," or holiness, 
** there is no excess ; neither angel nor man can come in 
danger by it."* " Forgetting those things which are 
behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are 
before," let us " press toward the mark for the prize 
of the high calling of God is Christ Jesus, "t 

Availing ourselves of the rich provisions which our 

* Lord Bacon. f Phil, iii : 13-14. 



56 GROWING CHRISTIANS. 

heavenly Father has made for our nourishment and 
progress, we may all be growing, fruitful Christians, 
honoring our Redeemer on earth, and ripening for 
glory. 

" Now unto him that is able to keep you from fall- 
ing, and to present you faultless before the presence 
of his glory, with exceeding joy, to the only wise God 
our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and 
power, both now and ever. Amen."* 

* Jude xxiv : 25. 



LECTURE III. 

USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 

The subject of our evening Lecture, according to 
appointment, is TJsefid Christians. — Christian use- 
fulness consists in dinainisliing the amount of sin and 
misery, and increasing the amount of holiness and en- 
joyment, in the world. 

A Useful Christian is — 

1. A pious Christian. His principles are sound, 
his affections are pure and fervent, his aim is upright, 
and his life is holy ; he is, in short, a living, growing 
Christian. An ungodly professor of Christianity is a 
blot on the character, and an incubus on the efforts, 
of a church, and a nuisance in the world. Hypocrites, 
apostates, and disorderly walkers, have done more to 
mar the peace, retard the progress, and bring reproach 
on the character of churches, than all the infidels, op- 
posers, and persecutors on earth. Judas, and Demas, 
and Simon, the sorcerer, proved a greater scourge to 
the early churches, than Herod, and Pontius Pilate, 
and Caesar. An unholy church member exerts a con- 
taminating, paralyzing influence on the body to which 
he belongs. '^ Know ye not that a little leaven leaven- 
eth the whole lump." The principles, the spirit, the 



58 USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 

example, of such a man will grieve and discourage the 
good, seduce the unwary and inexperienced, and ani- 
mate and strengthen the evil. But a godly man is a 
blessing to any church. True piety inspires the de- 
sire of usefulness ; nay, the desire is itself an essen- 
tial element of piety. While it inspires the desire of 
usefulness, it secures the confidence and esteem of 
men, which is an important means of influence. Let 
a Christian walk according to his principles, adorning 
in all things his profession, and it is interesting to no- 
tice how those who may have derided him as a weak 
enthusiast, or incurable bigot, will gradually come to 
respect and reverence him ; and if, in the circle of 
their acquaintances, one must be chosen to arbitrate 
their differences, or to be an executor of their wills or 
a guardian of their children, or to wateh at their bed- 
sides in the time of sickness, he will be the first to 
receive their suffrages. Bad as is the natural^ heart 
of man, it renders a cheerful homage to goodness, if 
its proximity creates no invidious distinction, and if it 
assumes not the attitude of reproof and correction. 
The pious man has God's approbation, and may expect 
God^s blessing in his labors ; and without this no la- 
bors, however vigorous and well directed, can prove 
successful. " I," said Paul, " have planted, ApoUos 
watered; but God gave the increase." If God de- 
lights in us he will grant us success. Observation 
has long since convinced me that a Christian's useful- 
ness depends far more on his godliness than on his 
gifts. I once knew a brother of feeble and unculti- 



USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 59 

vated intellect, and of slow and stammering speech, 
whose life was exemplary, whose zeal was fervent, and 
whose efforts in the cause of Christ were diligent and 
faithful ; and in the day of retribution, he will, I 
doubt not, have many stars in his crown of rejoicing. 
2. A consistent Christian, Along with genuine, 
and even fervent piety, a Christian sometimes has such 
blemishes, or eccentricities of character, as will, in a 
great measure, prevent his usefulness. He may be 
sincere ; but he is fickle, hot and cold by turns, some- 
times building, and sometimes destroying what he has 
built. He may be conscientious ; but he is morose ; 
judging from his spirit and conduct, you would con- 
clude that religion is a compound of gloom, austerity 
and fault-finding. He may be well meaning, but he 
is rude in his manners — -acting as if he thought polite- 
ness, or courtesy, a sin, and coarseness a Christian 
grace — and as if to be a saint he must necessarily be a 
boor. He may be fervent ; but he is eccentric, and 
deems himself meritorious just in proportion as he 
6i;cceeds in making himself singular and ridiculous. 
He may be zealous ; but he is indiscreet, and con- 
stantly saying or doing something which gives offence, 
or brings reproach on the cause which he would pro- 
mote. He may, in fine, be a Christian, acceptable to 
God, but owing to his defects, or oddities, or errors, 
he looses the affection or confidence, of his acquaint- 
ances, and is precluded the possibility of benefiting 
them. " Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothe- 
cary to send forth a stinking savor : so doth a little 



60 USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 

folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honor."* 
But the Christian whose life is in harmony with his. 
principles and profession, adorns the Gospel, commends 
the Redeemer, wins the confidence of his fellows, and 
is mighty to promote their salvation. He is a light 
in the world : he is salt in the earth. The hallowing 
influence of such a Christian cannot be fully esti- 
mated until the light of eternity shall disclose the re- 
sults of human agency. 

3. A7i intelligent Christian. " Do you think," in- 
quired a self-conceited young preacher of a venerable 
father in the Gospel, ^^ that God needs human learn- 
ing to build up his church ?'■ " I am sure," replied 
the good man, ^' he does not need human ignorance." 
The reproof was merited, and the remark wise. Know- 
ledge is power, as well in the kingdom of Christ, as in 
the kingdoms of the world. Other things being equal, 
the most intelligent Christian will always be the most 
useful. Ignorance is one of the great evils of the 
world. Men are alienated from the life of God 
through the ignorance that is in them. It is t^e 
mother of all the superstitions, which, under pagan or 
Christian names, have enslaved, corrupted and de- 
based mankind. It is the prolific source of the errors 
which have agitated, divided, enfeebled and disgraced 
the Christian world. It is a barrier to human salva- 
tion. " My people," says Jehovah, " perish for lack 
of knowledge." That the earth is in the present day, 

* Eccl. X : 1. 



USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 61 

to a melancholy extent covered with darkness, none 
will deny. By the ordination of heaven, this dark- 
ness must be dis23ersed, by the ministry, not of angelsj 
but of men — of godly men. Every Christian convert, 
whether male or female, in his proper sphere, and to 
the extent of his abilities, is required to be a teacher 
of divine things.* But how can a Christian be quali- 
fied to instruct the ignorant, to rebuke the perverse, to 
confute the erring, to fortify the wavering, and to com- 
fort the desponding, without knowledge ? ^' If the 
blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch." 
General knowledge is desirable for the Christian ; for 
it disciplines a^d strengthens his intellect, and affords 
him the materials for illustrating and enforcing divine 
truth; but Scriptural knowledge is essential to his 
usefulness, and contributes to it in proportion as it is 
distinct and experimental. How important then the 
apostle's exhortation, and how appropriate, not only to 
the Christian evangelist and pastor, but the obscurest 
member of the household of faith. — '^ Study to show 
thyself approved unto God." 

4. A7t active Christian, The believer is called to 
be a laborer with Christ. Had the Eedeemer no 
other motive than to render him happy, he would at 
once discharge him from the toils, and remove him 
from the temptations, dangers, and sufferings of this 
life ; but intending that he shall share in the honor 
of well-doing, the Master continues him on earth, 

*lPet. iv: 10-11— Tit. ii; 4. ^ 



62 USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 

amid discouragements and trials, to finish his work 
The world is the field of the Christian's labors. The 
field is vast, and arduous is the work to be done. The 
world, enslaved by sin, debased by ignorance, and 
crushed with nameless ills, is to be converted to 
Christ. The moral desert is to be changed into a 
beautiful and fruit-bearing garden. Superstition is to 
be succeeded by knowledge, thraldom by liberty, pollu- 
tion by holiness, and sorrow by peace and joy. But 
this great change cannot be effected by good wishes, 
kind intentions, or even by earnest prayers. The seed 
must be sown, and the field must be cultivated, or in 
vain do we expect fruit. It is by effort — direct, ear- 
nest, well applied effort— that Christian usefulness is 
secured. Nor must the believer, if he would fulfill 
his ministry, waste his sympathies on distant or irre- 
mediable woes ; but betake himself to the removal or 
mitigation of such evils, and to the promotion of such 
good as lie within the compass of his abilities and op- 
portunities. The man who neglects present, practi- 
cable, substantial usefulness, in his anxious concern 
for distant, unattainable, imaginary good, is a dream- 
ing enthusiast or a heartless hypocrite. In such a 
world as this the Christian can never want the means 
or opportunity of usefulness. The sick may be visited 
and relieved. The wants of the poor may be supplied ; 
the ignorant may be instructed in the way of salva- 
tion and of duty ; the vicious may be reclaimed from 
their devious and dangerous wanderings; the weak 
may be strengthened in their combats with the world. 



USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 63 

the flesh, and the devil ; and the distressed may have 
the fountains of Gospel consolation opened to them. 
The useful Christian not only labors, but labors from 
principle — labors diligently — and labors to the end of 
life. Looking around him, he carefully surveys the 
field of his labor; estimates his qualifications and 
means for usefulness ; earnestly seeks the divine 
guidance, aid, and blessing in his work ; and is will- 
ing to be employed any way, or any where, if souls 
may be profited, or Christ may be glorified. If, then, 
brethren, you would be useful in your vocation, heed 
the words of the wise preacher — '^ Whatsoever thy 
hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for there is 
no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in 
the grave, whither thou goest." 

5. A faithful Christian. The Christian laborer 
who seeks popularity may, by prophesying smooth 
things, flattering the vanity, soothing the prejudices, 
and pandering to the passions of men, attain his ob- 
ject, at least, for a season ; but let him not expect 
to profit souls or please God. He will have his re- 
ward — be admired and extolled — at any rate, tolera- 
ted and endured by his fellow creatures ; but it would 
be strange if, without seeking it, he should obtain a 
higher reward. As the skillful surgeon probes, cuts, 
and cauterizes the festering wound of his patient, that 
he may save his life, so the useful Christian proclaims 
the most unpalatable truths, warns, remonstrates, 
seeks to arouse the slumbering conscience, to fill the 
soul with terrors, a.nd to lead it to the most unfeigned 



64 USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 

contrition and the most painful exercises of self-de- 
nial, that he may save it from death. "What should 
we think of a surgeon whose false tenderness should 
impel him to apply emollients, when he should use 
the scalpel — to heal the wound slightly when he should 
probe it to the bottom ? His tenderness would be 
cruelty ; and yet this cruelty would be tender mercy 
compared with the conduct of the Christian teacher 
who should cry, Peace, peace to them to whom Grod 
does not speak peace ! The sin of deceiving souls, 
whether it be committed through inattention, false 
compassion, or the love of public favor, is of no com- 
mon turpitude. The ministry of Christ, our great 
Exemplar, was characterized by preeminent faithful- 
ness. With illimitable knowledge, a manner of speak- 
ing, simple, familiar, beautiful, and striking, and a 
character free from every blemish, he might, had that 
been his aim, have acquired unrivalled popularity. 
Had he praised the virtues, vindicated the authority, 
and flattered the prejudices of the scribes and Phari- 
sees, the chief priest and elders, they, like the com- 
mon people, would have heard him gladly ; then there 
had been no conspiracy to take away his life, and the 
malignant cry, '' Crucify him ! crucify him !" had 
never been uttered. But Christ came not to please, 
but to profit men. He found the Jews laboring under 
a most dangerous infatuation, and he sought, at the 
sacrifice of reputation, ease, and life, to dispel it. He 
confuted their errors, unveiled their hypocrisies, re- 
proved their extortions, and disclosed their impending 



USEFUL CHRISTIANS. '65 

doom ; and they hated him because he told them the 
truth. If, Christian brethren, we would be useful in 
our generation, we must cherish the Spirit, and copy 
the faithfulness of our divine and illustrious Leader. 
But let us not confound Christian fidelity, as many 
have unfortunately done, with sectarian bigotry, sel- 
fish intolerance, and unfeeling severity. True faith- 
fulness is kind, gentle, baptized in the spirit of love, 
wounding only to heal, and denouncing only to 
bless. 

6. A praying Christian. This thought has been 
clearly implied in the preceding portion of this Lec- 
ture, but, in consequence of its great importance, is 
entitled to a distinct notice. Prayer is the true se- 
cret of Christian usefulness. For this there can be 
no substitute : genius, learning, reputation, titles, in- 
dustry, are all vain without it. It exerts a two-fold 
influence. ' It affects the suppliant himself The spi- 
rit of prayer is the spirit of active, laborious, self- 
denying enterprise. The man who intelligently and 
earnestly prays for an object, comes forth, from com- 
munion with Grod, prepared, if it be attainable by 
means, to labor vigorously to secure it. But prayer 
not only affects the suppliant ; it influences Grod him- 
self That God has bound himself, by infallible 
promises, to hear the prayer of faith, the Scriptures 
clearly disclose. The history of the church is the 
record of the power and triumphs of prayer. It de- 
livered Daniel from the den of lions, and Peter from 
prison. It was while the disciples " continued with 



66 USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 

one accord in prayer and supplication," that the spirit 
was poured out, in Jerusalem, with power, and signs, 
and wonders. In all ages, the men whose example, 
labors, and influence have proved a blessing to the 
world, have been men of prayer. The Messiah was 
not less a man of prayer than of sorrows. Let any 
one read the Acts of the Apostles carefullj^, and he 
will be surprised to find how prominent a place prayer 
occupied in the lives of the primitive saints. In mod- 
ern times the men whose labors have exerted the most 
happy influence in the dissemination of divine truth, 
and the salvation of sinners, have been eminently dis- 
tinguished for the frequency and fervency of their 
prayers. Ah, if the Christian world did but l^now 
the power of prayer, their aggressions on the kingdom 
of satan would not be so feeble and ineffective; but, 
with the ardor and heroism of the early disciples, 
they would rapidly extend the conquests of the Re- 
deemer to the ends of the earth. 

A beautiful and impressive illustration of the prin- 
ciples maintained in this Lecture, is furnished in the 
history of brother Mark Earnest. 

Many Christians fancy that werg they endowed with 
shining and popular gifts, possessed of wealth, placed 
in circumstances favorable to their influence and ac- 
tivity, or invested with official rank and authority, 
they would find great pleasure in seeking to be useful. 
But this is generally an illusion. He that fails to 
improve one talent would fail to improve five. ^^ He 
that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in 



USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 67 

mucli : and he that is unjust in the least is unjust 
also in much."* The faith, zeal and energy which 
make a man useful in one sphere would make him use- 
ful in another. No Christian can be in a condition 
so poor, so obscure, and so embarrassed, but that he 
can find, or create, opportunities of usefulness, if he 
has " a mind to work." This will strikingly appear 
in the life of Mr. EarnesU 

He was poor, by occupation a mechanic, and encum- 
bered with the cares of a large and dependent family. 
He made a profession of religion while young, and for 
several years, though his deportment was not cecsura- 
ble, he gave no promise of uncommon usefulness. He 
seemed to possess an average measure of piety, which, 
unfortunately, in most religious communities, is very 
small. After he had been some years a church mem- 
ber, a very great and precious revival of religion com- 
menced in the place where he resided. The church 
to which he belonged shared richly in the refreshing 
influence. The members, generally, were awakened, 
penitently confessed their sins, entered into covenant 
to serve God with greater fidelity, and made more 
vigorous exertions to promote the salvation of sinners» 
Brother Earnest^ especially, seemed to be quickened 
into new life. Whether he had not previously been 
converted, or now only received a fresh communication 
of spiritual influence, I know not; but he seemed to 
be inspired with an extraordinary measure of zeal, 

* Luke xvi ; 10. 



68 USEFUL CHUrSTIANS. 

courage and activity. Those wlio had long known 
him could hardly realize that he was the same man. 
He was endowed with an ordinary intellect — -his edu- 
cation had been very slender — and his habits had not 
been such as to fit him for usefulness. But every ob- 
stacle yielded to strong faith, a warm heart, a deter- 
mined resolution, and patient efforts. He became, in 
a short time, one of the most efficient laborers in the 
revival. His modest, unpretending manner, and af- 
fectionate, tender spirit, and withal, his dauntless 
courage, enabled him to approach the enemies of reli- 
gion without giving offence, and to converse with them 
concerning the interests of their souls, with a freedom 
and fidelity, which would have been denied to more 
prominent advocates of Christianity. But, if, at any 
time, his gentle and well meant approaches were re- 
pulsed, the meekness of spirit which he displayed, the 
increased importunity in prayer to which his defeat 
gave birth, were quite as likely to secure his object as 
his most earnest admonitions would have been. In 
his efforts to win souls for Christ, he entered with 
equal readiness the work-shop, the counting-room, and 
the parlor. Many were brought to repentance by his 
solemn and pungent admonitions, and his tender 
and impressive exhortations. Many through his per- 
suasion entered the sanctuary, and were awakened and 
converted by the ministration of God's word. In the 
meetings for prayer, and the instruction of inquirers, 
he took an active and efficient, but unobtrusive part. 
To his wakeful attention, and timely suggestions, his 



IJSEFUL CHRISTIANS, 69 

pastor was indebted for many precious opportunities 
of doing good. Only the judgment day will reveal 
the amount of usefulness which he accomplished in 
that revival season. Quite sure I am that many in 
that day will hail him as the honored agent of their 
. conversion-— their spiritual father. 

Many years have passed since the close of that 
never-to-be-forgotten revival. Many who labored in 
it have gone to receive their reward. Many who were 
refreshed and invigorated in it have relapsed into their 
previous coldness and inefficiency. It was thought, 
and even predicted, that brother Earnest would soon 
lose his zeal, and cease from his activities. The pre- 
diction was not strange, considering how frequently 
the fervor of a revival proves evanescent. But it has 
not been fulfilled Brother Earnest has several times 
changed his residence, occupation, and church connec- 
tions, but his piety and labors in the cause of Christ, 
have undergone no material abatement. Every where, 
and under all circumstances, he has been the same 
humble, fervent, consistent, active, useful Christian, 
In the social prayer meeting, in the Sunday school, in 
the church meetings, in the public meetings for wor- 
ship and the ministration of the word, his place is 
always filled, and well filled, if he has not some valid 
excuse for his absence. He is constantly devising, or 
executing, some scheme of usefulness. The fervency 
of his zeal, the uniformity of his conduct, and the dis- 
interestedness of his labors, have secured for him the 
confidence and esteem of all who know him, and an 



70 USEFUL CHRISTIANS. 

enviable infiuence for doing good. Such a man. is a 
jewel — an example to believers — a comfort to his 
pastor — an honor to his church — a blessing to the 
community — a monument of grace — and a predestined 
heir of heaven. And yet he is distinguished not by 
his knowledge, fluency of speech, gift in prayer or ex- 
hortation, but simply by his earnestness of spirit, dili- 
gence in labor, and consistency of character. Nor let 
it be forgotten, that this spirit has been maintained, 
this labor performed, and this character matured, 
while he has been incessantly struggling to supply the 
wants of a growing and dependent family. 

I will conclude this Lecture with two of three re- 
marks — 

1. No Christian, however poor, obscure, and feeble, 
is denied the luxury of being useful. Every servant 
of Christ has a work to do^ — a work which no man, 
nor angel can do for him. He should earnestly in- 
quire, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" And 
having found his appropriate sphere of usefulness, he 
should occupy it, with a fervor, diligence and perse- 
verance, proportioned to the greatness of his obligation 
to Christ, and the brightness of the reward of well- 
doing. It was, I think, .the excellent John Newton, 
who remarked, that if an angel were sent from heaven 
to earth, it would be a matter of profound indifference 
to him whether he should be employed in sweeping 
streets, commanding armies, or governing nations, pro- 
vided he was doing the will of God. Every sphere in 
which Christ places his people may be ennobled by 



USEFUL CHRISTIANS, 71 

the faithful discharge of its duties. He that does the 
will of G-od does well. Whatever is done for the 
glory of Christ is nobly done. Let the Christian, 
then, not be ashamed of his position in the world — 
God has chosen it, and chosen it wisely —but aim to 
adorn it. 

2. The success of Christian laborers is not always 
proportionate to the measure and fidelity of their ef- 
forts. Christ's personal ministry, though it was pre- 
eminently faithful, searching and powerful, does not 
appear to have been remarkably successful. It was 
the Messiah who said in prophecy — '^ I have labored 
in vain, I have spent my strength for naught and in 
vain." The disciple is not above his Master. Labor 
is ours : success is God's. For various reasons he 
may withhold success from his faithful and beloved 
servants. He may design to make and keep them 
humble — to teach them that their su^ciency is of God 
— to instruct others to look beyond instruments, to 
the divine blessing, for success — or, in just judgment, 
for their perverseness and hardness of heart, he may 
refuse success to the most faithful ministrations among 
a people. This sentiment is in perfect harmony with 
our observations. We have seen ministers and parents, 
of gifts, piety and diligence, seeming to labor in vain ; 
and others less gifted, and not more pious or faithful, 
laboring with great apparent success. 

3. The reward of Christian laborers shall be pro- 
portioned, not to their success, but to their toil and 
faithfulness. In the day of retribution, Christ will 



72 USEFUL CHRISTIANS, 

say — ^' Well done, good 2,xA faithfuV — not successful 
— " servant." The Christian husbandman, who from 
a sterile soil reaps one sheaf, may secure a more abun- 
dant reward than he, who in a more fruitful soil, with 
less labor and care, reaps many sheaves. As God re- 
garded with approbation the desire of David to build 
him a house, which he was forbidden to erect, so in 
eternity many an anxious desire to do good, that never 
found an opportunity of displaying itself in acts, and 
many a generous and noble scheme of usefulness, 
which from untoward circumstances, perished in its 
inception, will meet a bright reward ; while many a 
splendid plan of seeming usefulness, conceived in 
vanity, prosecuted in gelf-confidence and ending in self- 
exaltation, will receive the stamp of God's displeasure. 



LECTURE IV. 

HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 

In many minds piety is, unfortunately, associated 
with an austere disposition, a gloomy countenance, 
retirement from the world, and an unceasing round of 
penances, ever-flowing tears, and ever-resounding 
groans. This is a great and most pernicious mistake. 
The error, doubtless, has its origin in the tendency 
of depraved human nature to superstition. Various 
causes have contributed to increase the delusion. The 
conflicts, painful self-denials, and bitter contrition 
which frequently attend the commencement of a reli- 
gious life, and which are clearly products of sin and 
guilt, are exaggerated, and placed to the account of 
religion. Christians of a gloomy temperament, who are 
generally sincere, and frequently active and efficient, 
give, by their morose temper and forbidding manners, a 
false impression of the influence of Christianity. The 
ascetic tendency of human nature, which, among Ro- 
manists, is cherished, and developed in penances and 
monkery — among Protestants, shows itself in excessive 
scrupolosity, fault-finding, and a war on innocent, but 
uncongenial enjoyments. The Christian, it must be 
conceded, has his troubles — troubles in common with 



74 HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 

otter men, and troubles peculiar to himself; but he 
has his consolations also. He has to bear the yoke of 
Christ ; but the yoke is easy and the burden light. 
He has his tears ; but tears have their own sweetness 
too. The afflictions of the people of God are pre- 
ferable to the momentary pleasures of sin. Why should 
the Christian be melancholy ? What is there in the 
service of Christ, the favor of Grod, or the hope of Heaven, 
to cover him with gloom ? Why should he not be happy ? 
Does he not possess all the elements of pui-e and perma- 
nent felicity ? Let us, brethren, carefully examine into 
this matter. The elements of Christian happiness are — 
1. A guiltless conscience. No man can be happy 
with an upbraiding conscience. Let Belshazzar, the 
impious King of the Chaldeans, amid the splendor 
and revelry of his palace, with changed countenance, 
loosened joints, and trembling knees, bear testimony 
on this point. What has caused his sudden agitation 
and panic ? The fingers of a man's hand have in- 
scribed on the wall of his palace mystic characters, 
which the wise men of Babylon cannot read. For 
aught that is known, they may predict the speedy de- 
liverance of the king from the besiegitig army of the 
Medes, a long and prosperous reign, and the perpetu- 
ation of his dynasty ; but conscience, calling to re- 
membrance his intemperance, impiety, and presump- 
tion, changes him into a coward, and fills him with 
remorse and consternation. Peter, after the most 
boastful protestations of attachment to his Master, 
denied him at the first approach of danger, and just 



HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 75 

as he was going to lay down his life for the disciples. 
Jesus turned a grieved, anxious, compassionate look 
on erring Peter ; and the keenness of his remorse and 
the bitterness of his tears, should suffice to convince 
us of the value of a guiltless conscience. And who, 
beside a faithful Christian, possesses this blessing ? 
Walking in the ordinances and commandments of the 
Lord, he has a conscience void of offence toward men, 
and toward God. ^^ He that keepeth the law, happy 
is he." The Christian may be falsely charged, his 
motives may be misunderstood or misrepresented, and 
all men may hold him in derision ; but, like the moun- 
tain top, towering above clouds and storms, he is in 
perpetual sunshine — enjoys the smile of his own con- 
science, and the approbation of God. Of other bless- 
ings he may be deprived, by the malice of foes, or the 
chances of fortune; but of a peaceful conscience, 
neither men nor devils, neither fire nor sword, nor 
disease, nor death can deprive him. Other posses- 
sions need to be insured on earth, but this is insured 
in Heaven. " that thou hadst hearkened to my 
commandments !" said God to rebellious Israel, " then 
had thy peace been as a river, and thy righteousness 
as the waves of the sea." Behold the majestic Mis- 
sissippi, as its current, deep, wide, and rapid, rolls 
on to the ocean — so abundant, flowing, and exhaust- 
less is the peace of the man who hearkens to God's 
commandments. 

2. A clear and abiding conviction that God reigns 
in wisdom^ righteousness, and faithfulness, over all 



'76 HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 

his works. In a world like this, affliction, soon or 
late, must come, and come to all. Disappointments, 
losses, disease, pain, and sorrows are the lot of mor- 
tals ; and neither faith, nor piety, nor prudence can 
deliver us from it. " No chastening for the present 
seemeth to be joyous, but grievous." To see our 
property, which we have earned by toil, and amassed 
by economy, squandered by dishonest agents ; to bury 
our cherished companions, or our idolized children ; 
or to be doomed to experience the slow, painful rava- 
ges of incurable disease, is afflictive ; and nothing can 
reconcile us to the calamity but the assurance that it 
is a divine dispensation, wisely and graciously designed 
for our spiritual good. This assurance every sincere 
Christian may possess. Afflictions are among the 
^* all things" which " work together for good to them 
that love God." Chastisement yields the " peaceful 
fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised 
thereby." Afflictions, light and momentary, work 
out for the Christian ^^ a far more exceeding, and 
eternal weight of glory." This persuasion is emi- 
nently adapted to quell the murmurings, to dissipate 
the fears, and to soothe the griefs of a pious heart. 
The patriarch Job knew and exemplified its sustain- 
ing influence. " The Lord," he said, with a grateful 
heart, " gave, and the Lord hath taken away" — the 
Sabean and Chaldean banditti, who plundered him of 
his oxen, asses, and camels; the fire from Heaven 
which consumed his sheep ; and the tornado which 
buried his sons and daughters, in the hour of their 



HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 77 

festivity, under the ruins of their eldest brother's 
house, were but ministers, unconsciously fulfilling Je- 
hpvah's will — " the Lord hath taken away ; blessed," 
continued the afflicted man, in pious resignation, 
*^ blessed be the name of the Lord."* "We have in 
the history of Paul, the apostle, another striking il- 
lustration of the comforting power of this conviction. 
This eminent servant of Christ had a thorn in the 
flesh — some bodily affliction which was painful, rank- 
ling, and intolerable as a thorn buried and festering 
in the flesh. He besought the Lord that it might de- 
part from him. The Lord did not comply with his 
request, but did what was better. He promised to 
his servant grace to sustain him under his affliction, 
and disclosed to him its disciplinary tendency. There 
was given to him a thorn in the flesh, the messenger 
of Satan to buffet him, lest he should be exalted 
above measure. ^^ Therefore," said the apostle, " I 
take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessi- 
ties, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake ; 
for when I am weak, then am I strong."! My breth- 
ren, if we see Christ on the throne, all beings, whether 
good or bad, and all events, whether joyous or afflic- 
tive, under his control ; and all ruled and ordered by 
him for the good of his church, and the glory of his 
name, we may well be submissive and cheerful in the 
darkest hour of calamity. " The Lord reigneth ; let 
the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of isles be glad 
thereof." 

* Job i : 21. t 2 Cor. xii ; 11. 



n 



HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 



3. Active efforts to do good. Idleness is the bane 
of spiritual as well as of natural enjoyment. The 
possessor of millions must pine in wretchedness if he 
has no employment to occupy his mind, and give 
healthful, invigorating exercise to the body. The 
Christian who seeks mainly his own enjoyment, will 
miss the object of his pursuit. Christian happiness 
is incidental to proper Christian activity — the neces- 
sary fruit of well-doing. " Happy is he that hath mercy 
on the poor.''* " It is more blessed to give than to re- 
ceive."! There is a blessedness in receiving, but a high- 
er, nobler blessedness in doing and imparting good. The 
Christian, who supplies the wants of the needy, or 
saves a soul from death, tastes a bliss which the sel- 
fish or indolent can never know. The desire of use- 
fulness is among the elements of Christian character — 
an instinctive and mighty impulse of a new-born soul ; 
and the opportunities of usefulness, which abound in 
the world, are to be ranked among the high and 
precious privileges of the sons of grace. It will gen- 
erally, perhaps invariably, be found that the happi- 
ness of the Christian is proportionate to the disinter- 
estedness and diligence of his efforts to do good. Show 
me a Christian full of doubts, gloom, and trouble, and 
I can pretty certainly draw his character. He is a 
religious epicure, seeking enjoyment rather than use- 
fulness. He attends on religious privileges that he 
may be fed ; but he desires to be fed, not that he may 

* ProY. xiv : 21. t -^cts xx : 36. 



HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 79 

be strengthened for the performance of duty, but for 
the gratification of feeding ; and nothing can satisfy 
his appetite but high-seasoned and stimulating food. 
No wonder that he should become a religious dyspep- 
tic, emaciated, feeble, and an intolerable self-burden. 
But, if I wished to show you a happy Christian, I 
would select one who is diligent in business, as well 
as fervent in spirit ; and who is diligent in business 
that he may increase the means and the measure of 
his usefulness, and more abundantly glorify his Lord. 
4. A confirmed hope of Heaven, "If in this life 
only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most 
miserable." Subjected as the Christian is to many 
sacrifices, and often to severe persecutions on earth, 
if he were not sustained and comforted by a hope be- 
yond the tomb, he would be the most wretched and 
pitiable of men. The hope of endless rest lightens 
the toils and burdens of life. The storm-tossed mari- 
ner, in the darkest hour of peril, is cheered by the 
prospect of reaching his destined port. Hope, buoy- 
ant hope, whispers, this tempest will be lulled, these 
clouds will be dissipated, favoring winds will fill the 
sails, and soon the smile and embrace of loved ones 
will make amends for all this toil and danger. Man 
is navigating the sea of life. Storms, whirlppols, and 
breakers abound in this ocean. How cheerless and 
melancholy would his lot be had he no hope of reach- 
ing the haven of security and rest ? This hope the 
Christian enjoys. He possesses " good hope through 
grace " — the hope of "an inheritance, incorruptible, 



80 HAPPY CHmSTIANS. 

undefiled, and that fadeth not away " — ^ hope founded 
on the divine promises, and confirmed by the divine 
oath — a hope which is *- as an anchor of the soul, both 
sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that with- 
in the veil." 

" A hope so much divine. 
May trials well endure." 

The Christian may have toils here, but he shall 
have rest in Heaven — he may have sorrows here, but 
he shall have joys in Heaven — he may have persecu- 
tions here, but he shall have a crown in Heaven — he 
shall have death here, but he will have eternal life in 
Heaven ; and the firm and vivid hope of Heaven can 
sweeten the toils, heal the sorrows, and blunt the per- 
secutions of earth, and triumph over the fear of death. 

5. The love of God in the heart. ^' The love of 
God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, 
which is given unto us."* It is not easy to explain 
fully the nature of this operation : it may be expe- 
rienced, but not described. It is a sense of the divine 
favor, produced by the indwelling influence of the 
Holy Spirit, filling the heart with gratitude, love, and 
joy. To this blessed influence the Christian is no 
stranger. The Holy Ghost dwells with him to com- 
fort, refresh, and invigorate him. He knows, by sweet 
experience, that ^^ the kingdom of God," is not only 
*^ righteousness," but *^ peace and joy in the Holy 
Ghost."t He has " fellowship with the Father, and 

* Kom. V : 5. f Rom. xiv : 17. 



HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 81 

with his Son Jesus Christ."* Sceptics, worldlings, 
and formalists may deride him as a visionary ; but he 
cannot be cheated out of his own experience. He 
knows that he has found in the service of Christ, and 
in the pervasive, subduing influence of his Spirit, a 
light, a tranquillity, a joy, a rapture, and an elevation 
above the world, which could be found no where else. 
How delightful was the hour when first, with a heart 
crushed by a sense of its vileness and guilt, he trusted 
in Jesus, saw his fullness and glory, felt his pardon- 
ing love, and, with unutterable affection, devoted him- 
self to his service. It was the joy of an espousal — 
the blessedness of a new and spiritual existence — 
which may well be described as ^' joy unspeakable, 
and full of glory." The Christian may, in after years, 
lament the absence of that ardent affection and lively 
joy which characterized his conversion to Christ ; but 
if he has less ardor, he has more stability, and if he 
has less joy, he has more tranquillity. If he is, as he 
ought to be, a growing Christian, the love of God in 
his heart will be a perennial fountain of peace and 
joy — a fountain which no earthly vicissitudes can 
dry or pollute. With the pious Newton, he may 
sing— 

*' While blessed with a sense of his love, 
A palace a toy would appear ; 
And prisons would palaces prove, 
If Jesus would dwell with me there.'' 

* 1 John i ; 3. 



82 HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 

Concerning Christian happiness I have two remarks 
to make — 

1. It is not perfect J either in kind or degree. Per- 
fect bliss belongs to Heaven — is the consummation of 
the Christian's hope. The purest joy of the believer 
in the flesh is tainted with self and the world ; and his 
highest rapture falls far short of the heavenly felicity. 
He learns from his own experience, as well as from 
the Scriptures, that the present life is a mixture of 
joy and sorrow, hope and fear, conflict and triumph, 
sunshine and clouds ; and he is, or, at least, aims to 
be, content with such enjoyments as are allotted him 
on earth, and to wait for his full fruition in heaven. 

2. It is greatly onodified by natural temperament. 
Conversion does not involve the change of a man's 
natural temperament. If, in consequence of an unfor- 
tunate physical organization, he was, before conversion, 
gloomy, desponding and unhappy, he will not only re- 
tain this temperament after his change, but his piety 
will receive a coloring from it. This observation is 
true of every possible development of the natural 
temper. Christian happiness is sometimes diminished, 
or, for a season, entirely prevented — sometimes greatly 
increased — and sometimes rendered quite equivocal, 
by the physical temperament. If a man's temper is 
timid, desponding and gloomy, his piety, however con- 
scientious and consistent, is likely to yield him but 
little enjoyment. If his temperament is confiding, 
sanguine and cheerful, his mind will readily receive 
religious comfort, and derive encouragement from the 



HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 83 

divine promises or providences. If his mind is of a 
subtle, metaphysical, disputatious turn, his piety will 
almost certainly prove equivocal^ and his enjoyment 
unsatisfactory. 

In closing, I notice four classes of persons — 

1 . Some are happy but are not Christians, They 
are of a fortunate temperament, healthful, prosperous 
and cheerful ; but they do not fear God, nor trust in 
Christ, nor even desire to be religious. Their happi- 
ness is worldly, unsubstantial, and evanescent; and 
yet renouncing God and Heaven, they take it as their 
best, their only portion. 

2. Some are Christians^ hut not happy. I have 
already described this class. Their condition is safe, 
but unenviable. I have known many such Chi'istians 
— sincere, conscientious and faithful, a burden to them- 
selves, and of no great use in the world — ^worthy, in- 
deed, of our confidence and love, but at the same time 
claiming our pity and indulgence. 

3. Some are neither Christians nor happy. This 
numerous class seek happiness from the world, and 
find it not. Forsaking the fountain of living waters, 
they hew for themselves broken cisterns, which can 
hold no water. They toil, build, plant, accumulate, 
travel, study, feast, dance ; but find by painful expe- 
rience the truth of Solomon's words — "All is vanity, 
and vexation of spirit." 

4. Some are happy Christians. This class I have 
aimed particularly to describe. I cannot, however, 
more appropriately conclude this Lecture than by 



84 HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 

giving a brief account of an interesting specimen of 
this class of Christians. Sister Gtrace Bliss was poor 
in the things of this world, but ^' rich in faith" — ^' rich 
toward Grod." For the long period of twenty years 
she suffered from the ravages of a slow, painful, and 
incurable disease. She was seldom entirely free from 
suffering, and never from debility. Most of the time, 
she was confined to her room, frequently to her bed, 
and sometimes her pain was severe. It was, however, 
at all times, a source of pleasure and profit to visit 
her room. To say that she was resigned would con- 
vey a very inadequate conception of the state of her 
mind. She was cheerful — happy — ^joyous. No mur- 
muring word ever escaped her lips. No cloud of de- 
spondence ever darkened her countenance. She was 
supported mainly by the kindness of friends whom 
her gentle and fond spirit had won, and who found 
pleasure in supplying her few wants ; and this kind- 
ness made the most delightful impression on her heart, 
and called forth the warmest utterances of gratitude. 
Cut off by her situation from all active participation 
in efforts for the promotion of religion, she did not 
cease to cherish an earnest interest in the prosperity 
of the church of which she was a member, and the 
triumphs of evangelical piety in the world ; and she 
took great pleasure in contributing a pittance from 
her very limited resources to the promotion of the 
cause of Christ. The philosopher would have found 
it profitable to visit her lowly dwelling. There he 
might have learned, better than he could have learned 



HAPPY CHRISTIANS* 85 

in almost any other place, lessons of deep import— 
the power, excellence and value of the Gospel — the 
essential dignity of true holiness— the sustaining, com- 
forting power of divine grace — and the utter worth- 
lessness of all earthly wealth and grandeur in compari- 
son with the benefits of sincere piety. 

But the character of this lovely saint may be best 
illustrated by a story which I have heard concerning 
her. It bears striking signs of verisimilitude. Mr. 
Markwell^ a pious and worthy man, resided in the 
neighborhood of Grace Bliss. He knew her well, 
and could but wonder at her uniform cheerfulness in 
poverty and suffering. He had an interesting group 
of children, for whose happiness, and, especially, moral 
and religious improvement, he felt constant solicitude. 
One day he said, '^ My children, to-morrow I will take 
you to see a Wonder^ but I will not let you know 
what it is, till you see it." Tbe children were greatly 
delighted at the prospect of seeing a sight, and their 
fancies were busily employed to find out what it might 
be. One guessed that it was a panorama — another 
that it was a menagerie— James thought it must be 
a fine picture — and little Jennie that it was a pretty 
landscape. All looked forward with irrepressible de- 
sire to the time when they should go to see the Won- 
der. At length the longed-for hour arrived, and Mr. 
Markwell^ at the head of his gleeful band, set out to 
show his children the promised sight. His steps were 
directed to an obscure and uninviting suburb of the 
city. As they turned one street after another, among 



86 HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 

tbe lowly and uncomfortable looking dwellings, the 
children began to inquire, ^^ What can father find in 
this part of the city worth seeing ?" Having at last 
reached a low, dilapidated and cheerless looking shed, 
Mr. Markwell stopped, and said, ^^ My children, see 
that building — how low, and mean it looks — Do you 
think that any body living in such a house as this can 
be happy?" They all replied, ^^ No !" It is not sur- 
prising they should have thought so. Their own taste- 
ful, neat and spacious home, the abode of love and 
peace, was so unlike this comfortless shanty. *' I have 
brought you here, my dear children," continued Mr. 
Markwell J *^ that you may see that happiness don't 
depend on fine houses, and fine furniture, but that one 
may be happy in poverty and sufi*ering." They en- 
tered the humble dwelling. The cheap and scanty 
furniture of the room was clean, and well arranged, 
for the hand of a fond and faithful sister, the insepa- 
rable companion of Grace^ was there. On a low cot, 
in one corner of the room, lay the Wonder — Miss 
Grace j^/iss— emaciated, pale, feeble, suffering from 
a pain in her breast, and a difficulty of respiration. 
After the usual courtesies, Mr. Markwell said, " Miss 
Bliss^ I have brought my children here, that you may 
teach them that a person in your situation can be hap- 
py." " My dear children," said she, as the habitual 
serenity of her countenance changed into a radiant 
smile, and the big tears glistened in her eyes, *^ I am 
happy, and I have great cause to be. You see me 
lying on this bed, poor, weak and suffering; but the 



HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 87 

Lord is very kind to me. I have many good friends, 
who supply my wants — I have an angel sister, who 
nurses me — and I have a Bible, in which I can read 
God's precious word. I hope soon to die, and go to 
heaven. There I shall see Jesus — that's enough ! I 
used to beguile many a tedious hour in singing — I 
can't sing now — my voice has failed — but there I 
shall sing like an angel. Even now, children, I have 
sweet foretastes of heaven. In the still hours of the 
night, I pray to my heavenly Father, and he fills my 
heart with love, peace and joy. I seem to be on the 
very verge of heaven. I would not change places 
with a king." She then repeated, with deep feeling, 
the beautiful lines of Wesley:— 

" Oj what are all my sufferings here, 
If, Lord, thou count me meet, 
With that enraptured host t' appear, 
And worship at thy feet." 

Mr. Markwell said to her, " Sister Grace^ for what 
would you exchange your hope in Christ ?" " For 
nothing," was her prompt reply, " but a seat at the 
right hand of God." " Well," continued he, if the 
Lord would grant you one wish, what would it be ?" 
The children thought, surely, she would wish for 
health, or a good house, or some worldly blessing, and 
even Mr. Markwell supposed that she would wish for 
an increase of faith, or joy, or some spiritual blessing; 
but she answered, with an earnestness peculiar to her- 
self, " I would wish that all the world might love 
Christ." 



88 HAPPY CHRISTIANS. 

The cLildren, after having placed in the hands of 
Miss Grace the money which their father had given 
them to pay for seeing the Wonder^ returned to their 
home as much pleased as if they had seen a menage- 
rie, a panorama, or a palace, and far more instructed 
and benefitted. 

Years have passed away since the death of Grace 
Bliss. It was as peaceful as her life had been godly. 
Her bodily struggle was long and severe, but her soul 
continued cloudless, calm, and joyous. The grass ^has 
grown luxuriantly over her grave. No monument 
marks the resting place of her dust. But she is still 
held in fragrant remembrance by many who knew her. 

And now, my dear hearers, we should all be happy 
Christians. God has made ample provision for our 
spiritual enjoyment. " The word of grace," ^^ the 
throne of grace," and " the Spirit of Grace," arfe all 
accessible to us. With such sources of consolation 
open to us, we mav well endure all the ills of life. If 
you are happy Christians, I sincerely congratulate 
you. Let us keep the prize of our high calling before 
us ; and, with steady, undiverted feet, press towards 
it. A 'pleasant service, and unfailing sources of con- 
solation here, with a glorious reward hereafter, should 
surely satisfy us, " May the peace of God, which 
passeth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds 
through Christ Jesus." Amen. 



LECTURE V. 

DOUBTING CHRISTIANS. 

Christians, even the best, are, in this world, im- 
perfect. As there are no two plants or animals, so 
there are no two Christians exactly alike. Moral ex- 
cellences and defects are combined in believers in end- 
less variety. All bear the image of Christ, but all do 
not resemble him in the same degree, nor reflect the 
same lineaments of his character. One is most re- 
markable for humility, another for love, a third for 
devotion, a fourth for conscientiousness, and so on, 
through the whole circle of features which constitute 
"the beauty of holiness." All these qualities are 
greatly modified by constitution, early discipline, 
habits, associations, and many other influences. Having 
described four classes of Good^ I shall now proceed to 
delineate several classes of Defective Christians. 

I begin with Doubting Christians. Of this class 
brother Thomas Little faith is a pretty fair speci- 
men. Having been long, and somewhat intimately 
acquainted with him, and having had many opportu- 
nities of observing his peculiarities, I will describe 
him^as the representative of his class. 

Brother Little faith is 2l good man. All his neigh- 



90 DOUBTING CHRISTIANS. 

« 

bors give him credit for sincerity, conscientiousness, 
and uprightness of conduct. He is no stranger to the 
power of divine grace. His religious experience is 
deep, various and evangelical. He wept over his sins, 
fled to Christ for refuge, enjoyed the consolations of 
the Gospel, and earnestly dedicated his powers and 
possessions to the service of the Lord. He was cor- 
dially admitted into church fellowship, and has since 
done nothing to demand his expulsion from it, or to 
bring a strong suspicion on the genuineness of his 
piety. 

But brother Litile-faith is a great doubter. He 
does not question the inspiration of the Scriptures, 
the divinity of Christ, the necessity of regeneration, 
and the sanctifying influence of the Spirit, or, indeed, 
any vital doctrine of Christianity. All his feelings 
and habits incline him to the orthodox side in reli- 
gion. His doubts have respect, not to divine truth, 
but to his own spiritual state — to the genuineness of 
his piety. He is generally, more or less, uncertain 
whether he is a child of grace. He has hours of light 
and confidence, but usually they are succeeded by days 
of depression and gloom. His doubts are no part of his 
piety; but a defect and blemish in his character. 
Had he more grace, he would have fewer doubts ; and 
had he fewer doubts, he would be a better Christian. 

I am aware that some Christian teachers maintain 
that doubts are incompatible with a state of piety. 
" Can a man," they ask, ^^ pass from darkness to 
light, from death to life, without knowing it ?" They 



DOUBTING CHRISTIANS. 91 

consider faith to be essentially of the nature of as- 
surance. The subject is entitled to candid conside- 
ration. Certainly, persons, having a high reputation 
for piety, have' been annoyed by doubts of their 
acceptance with God. It will, perhaps, be dijficultto 
find a man, of serious, earnest piety, who has not oc- 
casionally had his mind clouded with doubts. If 
doubts are inconsistent with the genuineness of piety, 
brother Little-faith can lay no claim to it — a conclu- 
sion to which he might be easily led. I will endeavor 
to place this matter in a Scriptural light. 

Faith, like other Christian graces, is, in the begin- 
ning, generally imperfect and feeble. It is capable 
of growth, and invigoration. " The apostles said unto 
the Lord, Increase om: faiths * *'We are bound to 
thank God always for you, brethren," wrote Paul to 
the church of the Thessalonians, " as it is meet, be- 
cause jonv faith groweth exceedingly."! But faith, 
which excludes all doubt, is full assurance — ^matured 
faith — and admits of no increase. In the Scriptures 
we read of " weak faith," " strong faith," and " the 
full assurance of faith." It is admitted that the 
" faith" referred to in these passages is not a persua- 
sion of acceptance with God, but of the truth of his 
word ; nevertheless, any doubt of the truth of his word, 
must imply a corresponding doubt of acceptance with 
him. If faith is weak — attended with doubts — then 
the persuasion of acceptance with God is equally 

* Luke xvii ; v. f 2 Thess. i : 3. 



9^ DOUBTINO CHRISTIANS. 

weak and unsatisfactory. If faith grows, then the 
persuasion of acceptance with God increases. And, 
finally, if faith is matured into full assurance, then 
the persuasion of acceptance with Q-od rises to an un- 
doubting conviction. This view of faith corresponds 
with the exhortations to self-examination, and the cau- 
tions against self-deception, with which the Scriptures 
abound. " Let no man deceive himself.''* " Examine 
yourselves whether ye be in the faith ; prove your own 
selves. Klnow ye not your own selves, how that Jesus 
Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates."! But if 
faith implies assurance — certainty — there is no need 
that a believer should examine, or try himself. He 
knows that he is ^converted — and needs not inquire 
into his state. It would be about as reasonable to ex- 
hort a man to examine whether he has a head on his 
shoulders as whether he is possessed of saving faith, 
if one is as certain as the other. What a man know«, 
he cannot doubt; and what he does not doubt can de- 
mand no examination — ^no farther proof. Every vital 
Christian knows that he has been the subject of a 
change — a great, internal and abiding change — ^but 
whether it is that divine, gracious change termed in 
the Scriptures the new birth, or conversion, he may be 
in painful uncertainty. He knows that he has faith, 
but whether it is that soul purifying faith — the *^ faith 
of God's elect' ^ — which is inseparable from the state 
of salvation, he may seriously doubt. Indeed, faith, 
and a consequent persuasion of acceptance with God, 

* 1 Cor. ill ; 18. f 2 Cor. xiii ; 6 



DOUBTING CHPaSTIANS. 93 

exists in every conceivable degree, from the trembling 
hope of the young convert to the assured confidence 
of the matured Christian. Quite certain I am, too, 
that the persuasion of one's acceptance with God, does 
not always keep pace with the assurance that Chris- 
tianity is true. There may be a strong conviction of 
the truth of the Scriptures, and this conviction may 
be overborne by the turbulent propensities of an un- 
sanctified nature. The faith which justifies is not 
mere speculation — a cold assent to the truth of Chrrs- 
tianity — but a cordial embracing of the Gospel as the 
means of deliverance from sin and guilt — an exercise 
which supposes repentance — a new heart — an obedient 
spirit. And whether our faith is of this character 
may well awaken intense anxiety, lead to thorough 
self-examination, and be involved in serious doubts. 

But to return to the character of brother Little- 
faith. "We are naturally led to inquire what are the 
sources of his distressing doubts ? I am not so 
thoroughly acquainted with his life as to be confident 
of all the causes of his moral infirmity : I am, how- 
ever, quite certain as to some of them. 

His doubts may be traced in part to his natural 
temperament. 

This is gloomy and desponding. He looks at the 
dark side of every thing. He sees nothing but spots 
on the sun; and these, he imagines, are porten- 
tous of dreadful calamities. He is full of painful 
anticipations as to the future ; he dreads famine — 



94 DOUBTING CHRISTIANS. 

dreads pestilence — dreads wars — and dreads the 
overthrow of all order and piety. Nothing pre- 
vented him from becoming a Millerite, but his good 
fortune to reside beyond the excitement created by 
the Advent doctrine. A few straggling tracts and 
papers devoted to the support of Mr. Miller's pecu- 
liar notions reached him, and filled his mind with 
anxiety. For a while he could talk of nothing but 
the second Advent, and though he professed to reject 
the new doctrine, it was plain that he was in doubt 
on the subject. No wonder that he should contem- 
plate Christianity under the most forbidding aspects, 
and his own character in the most discouraging light. 
That he should be more impressed by the threaten- 
ings than the promises of the Gospel, by the diffi- 
culties than the privileges of religion, is in perfect 
harmony with his natural temper. That he should 
be more encouraged by his attainments than dispirit- 
ed by his imperfections, would imply a physical 
change, which grace does not effect. 

The doubts of brother Litile-faith spring in a 
measure from false views of the evangelic scheme of 
salvation. Whether from erroneous teaching, or 
from the unfortunate tendency of his mind, I cannot 
say; but I know he is prone to seek comfort and 
hope, not so much from the perfect sacrifice of Christ, 
the fullness of his grace, and the faithfulness of his 
promise, as from such marks of piety as he can find 
in his heart and life. He seeks consolation in the 
state of his own heart, rather than from the unfailing 



DOUBTINa CHRISTIANS. 95 

sources of it, which Grod has opened by the death of 
his Son, and the revelations of his grace. He does 
not examine himself too closely, nor over-estimate his 
own weakness, imperfections, and unworthiness ; but 
he does not duly meditate on the fullness and freeness 
of redeeming love, nor properly appreciate the faithful 
intercession of our great High Priest. His thoughts 
dwell on the virulence of his disease, almost to the 
exclusion of the divinely-appointed and efficacious 
remedy. If he could be brought fully to understand 
that he must be saved, if he is saved at all, not by his 
own worthiness, but the exercise of an humble, child- 
like, cordial trust in Christ — a trust which leads to 
an earnest obedience to his commands — he would 
surely have fewer doubts, and more religious enjoy- 
ment. But, alas for him ! when told of a Saviour's 
love, he laments the hardness of his heart — -when the 
fullness of the Eedeemer's sacrifice is set before him, 
he anxiously searches in himself for some warrant to 
trust in it — when the inestimable privileges of the 
Gospel are freely offered to him, he fears that his un- 
worthiness will exclude him from all participation of 
them — in short, when a free, and perfect salvation is 
preached to him, his remembrance of his past sins, 
and a sense of his present infirmities, seem to hide it 
from his eyes, or convert it into a means of more fear- 
ful condemnation. 

Another source of doubting to brother Thomas 
Little-faith is the supposed inferiority of his own eoo 
perience to that of other Christians. He had a neigh- 



96 DOUBTING CHRISTIANS* 

bor — -Mr. Wildman — who had a remarkable expe- 
rience, and was fond of telling it. Mr. Wildman had 
a weak judgment, with an ardent, excitable tempera- 
ment. His religious education had been neglected, 
and he was ready to embrace the most extravagant 
fancies. His experience — if it may so be called — was 
certainly singular. He went to bed at night, entirely 
unconcerned on religious subjects — fell asleep, and 
dreamed that he saw heaven opened, and many of his 
departed friends there* It was a bright, beautiful 
and happy place, and Jesus invited him to enter in, 
and share its blessedness. He made an attempt to 
cross the narrow stream, which separated him from the 
joyous society, upset his boat, sunk in the stream, 
thought himself lost, and in the struggle awoke, in 
deep distress. He was now under strong conviction of 
sin. After spending several- hours in prayer for 
mercy, he again fell asleep, and dreamed. He thought 
Jesus came to him, spoke words of consolation, and 
helped him into heaven, where he heard the songs of 
saints and angels ; and he awoke in an ecstacy. Ho 
now thought himself converted, and gave indulgence 
to the most rapturous joy. I will not affirm that 
Mr. Wildman was not converted. His experience 
was exceedingly visionary and unsatisfactory, though 
he did not appear to be wholly destitute of religious 
knowledge and feeling. His life too proved to be as 
inconsistent as his experience was strange. "Ah," 
said brother Little-faith^ "if I had such an expe- 
rience as neighbor Wildman^ I should be satisfied — I 



DOUBTING CHUISTIANS. 97 

should then know that I am converted." And yet 
every discriminating Christian who knew the two men^ 
had far greater confidence in the piety of Thomas Lit- 
tle-faith than of Mr. Wildman, 

Another cause of the doubts of brother Little-faith 
is, certainly, his neglect of known duties. Some of 
his neglects have come to my knowledge ; and these, I 
fear, are but specimens of his failings. He usually 
refuses to pray in social prayer-meetings, though he 
possesses a fair gift in prayer. Sometimes he stays 
away from the prayer-meeting, lest he should be called 
on to lead in the exercise ; and when he is present, he 
is apt to take the most remote and unobserved seat, 
to indicate that he is anxious not to be invited to offer 
prayer. He does not wholly neglect family worship 
— ^his conscience will not permit him to do that — ^but 
it is generally a task and burden to him, and he is glad 
of any plausible apology for neglecting it altogether. 
He occasionally takes a class in the Sunday school, 
but his attendance is so irregular, that he is soon de- 
serted by it, or dismissed by the superintendent. Now 
it is not surprising that he should have doubts and 
fears. He nurses them by his culpable neglects. It 
would be strange if he did possess the full assurance 
of hope. It is contrary to all the principles of Chris- 
tianity that the negligent, slothful and disobedient 
should enjoy strong confidence and hope. 

I cannot speak confidently, but I have a suspicion 
that brother Little faith' s characteristic infirmity may 
be traced in some degree, to secret sins. The tempta- 



98 DOUBTING CHRISTIANS, 

tion to secret is mucli stronger than to open sins. 
The public eye, even the presence of a child, restrains 
many persons from sins from which the All-seeing Eye 
of the infinite Judge could not : A desire to appear 
consistent, to secure the approbation of friends, and to 
command the respect even of enemies, is a strong prin- 
ciple of action, and auxiliary to other, and better prin- 
ciples, in preserving good men from transgression. 
But this motive fails to exert any influence in with- 
holding them from secret sins. The promise of con- 
cealment is one of the most dangerous motives by 
which Satan seduces men into evil; and good and 
strong men may fall under its power. Brother Lit- 
tle-faith is, I trust, good, but he is not strong. He is 
not so confirmed in religious principles, nor so forti- 
fied by knowledge, experience, and virtuous habits, as 
to be above suspicion. I do not mean to slander him 
— I would not set an example of evil speaking — but I 
desire to be faithful. He has not made me his father 
confessor ; but I would kindly inquire, whether these 
groans, and tears, and distressing doubts, may not have 
their origin in some secret but evil indulgence ? I 
should not propound this question, had not some facts, 
which I deem it not proper to mention, come to my 
knowledge, and did I not judge that Christians of his 
class may be profited by the inquiry. I would have 
him, and the class which he represents, earnestly cry 
with the Psalmist — " Search me, God, and know my 
heart : try me, and know my thoughts : and see if 
there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the 



DOUBTING CHRISTIANS, 99 

way everlasting;"* and " cleanse thou me from secret 

faults."! 

The Effects of these habitual doubts on the charac- 
ter and influence of brother Little-faith are obvious 
and deplorable. 

He has, I need hardly say, but little religious en- 
joyment. He has occasional sunshine, but clouds 
usually cover his skies. Moments of joy^ and months 
of wo seem to be his lot on earth. In seasons of re- 
ligious revival, while other Christians are refreshed, 
filled with joy, and actively laboring for Christ, he, 
poor -soul, is most uncertain and anxious about his 
spiritual state — instead of songs, he utters groans — 
instead of laboring to win souls for Christ, he is ab- 
sorbed in concern for his own salvation. On one oc- 
casion, I was provoked with him outright. It was at 
the close of a most glorious meeting. Young con- 
verts, with smiling faces, and glad hearts, were sitting 
in a group, to receive a few words of parting advice 
from their spiritual fathers ; and many anxious, weep- 
ing, broken-hearted sinners were in attendance to 
listen to appropriate instruction, and to share in the 
intercessions of the faithful. It was a heavenly time 
— every heart was moved. What Christian, under 
such circumstances, could think of himself ? Why, 
brother Little-Jaith^ who had been many years a pro- 
fessor of religion, came forward in the presence of the 
assembly, fell on his knees, and with piteous cries, re- 

* Ps. cxxxix : 23-24. t I*s. xix: 12. 



100 DOUBTING CHRISTIANS. 

quested that special prayer should be offered up for 
him. The request was sadly out of harmony with the 
occasion, and seemed to strike no responsive chord in 
any bosom; but it was in perfect unison with the 
man's character. A scene which filled other Chris- 
tians with joy, served only to increase his doubts and 
gloom. 

At another time, I saw the poor man on the very 
verge of despair. There was a lively state of reli- 
gious feeling in the church of which he was a member. 
For a considerable time he had been in a cold, apa- 
thetic condition. Now he became pretty thoroughly 
awakened. He remembered the past with remorse, 
and anticipated the future with dread. He was seized. 
with the conviction that he had committed the unpar- 
donable sin. No arguments could convince him of his 
mistake — ^no promises afford him any relief — and no 
sympathy soothe his sorrow. I saw him in the house 
of God at the close of a searching and impressive ser- 
mon on the subject of backsliding. His countenance 
would have moved a heart of stone. It was almost 
black with despair. He could not weep, and did not 
dare to pray. All my efforts to instruct, entourage 
and comfort him were vain ; and I left him seriously 
fearing that his reason would be overthrown. After 
a few days, however, he found relief from his distress- 
ing fears, was filled with joy, thought that he had 
never before been converted, and applied to be re-bap- 
tized. It was not long, however, before his doubts 
were as numerous, and his gloom as dense as ever. 



DOUBTING CHPaSTIANS. 101 

Were the renewal of his faith admitted as a valid plea 
for his re-baptism, there is no telling how often it 
might be necessary to repeat the rite. 

Brother Little-faith is a very inefficient Christian, 
I hope he will reach heaven, for although he frequently 
turns aside,/he seems to be pursuing the right road. 
In the judgment of charity, he has " the root of the 
matter" in him, though it 'bears but little fruit, and 
that very defective. I fear, however, that he will 
never do much good in this world. His whole life is 
tinged, yea, dyed, with his constitutional infirmity. 
His time is wasted in needless delays, A disposition 
to procrastinate is an essential element of his charac- 
ter. He must long meditate, inquire, and weigh op- 
posing motives, before he can decide the plainest ques- 
tion of duty ; and when he has decided there is no 
certainty that his decision will not be reversed in an 
hour. He was five years under painful conviction of 
sin, before he found any comfort in believing ; and 
then seven years elapsed before he could gain his con- 
sent to be baptized, and unite with the church ; and, 
at last, he went forward in these duties with great un- 
certainty and trembling. This is about his usual 
speed. He is always intending, very sincerely, no 
doubt, to do better, but the time of action is slow in 
arriving. And when he does engage in any religious 
enterprize, he lacks the earnestness and vigor which 
are requisite to ensure success. I once heard him 
pray, when the church was in a most revived and pleas- 
ing state, and a person, judging from his prayer. 



102 DOUBTING CHRISTIANS. 

would have concluded that the last spark of piety on 
earth had been extinguished, and Satan had undis- 
puted sway over mankind. It was made up of the 
most piteous confessions of coldness, stupidity, and 
barrenness ; correct utterances, no doubt, of his own 
feelings, in which his fellow worshippers did not, at 
the moment, sympathize. He never projects any 
scheme of usefulness, and when from the demands of 
conscience, or a regard to his reputation, he aids in 
the execution of those planned by others, he never 
fails, by his expressive gestures, or more expressive 
words, to indicate his conviction of their worthlessn§ss, 
or impracticability. I must do him the justice to say 
that he contributes of his substance, with an average 
liberality, to the support of his church, and the spread 
of the Gospel ; but, with this exception, he is of little 
service to the cause of Christ. 

Brother Little-faith^ I must add, does, in some re- 
spects, exert an injurious influence in the world. 
His life is a libel on Christianity. His countenance, 
conversation and groans seem to proclaim that Christ 
is a hard master, his service a cruel bondage, and his 
servants the most oppressed and miserable vassals on 
earth. I know he would not dare to utter, and does 
not believe such sentiments — he believes the very re- 
verse — but still his life gives currency to them. Ac- 
tions speak more loudly than words. The world will 
judge of Christians more by what they do than what 
they say — more by the spirit they manifest, than the 
profession they make. This is not to be censured or 



BOTJBTING CHRISTIANS. 103 

lamented. " By their fruits ye shall know them." 
The world, too, will judge of Christianity more by what 
they see of it in the deportment and spirit of its pro- 
fessors, than by its principles and precepts recorded in 
the Scriptures. What then must be the impression 
of Christianity derived by the world from the life of 
brother Little-faith ? They must conclude that it is 
a compound of uncertainty, gloom and distress, fruit- 
ful only in groans, and promising not much more in 
the life to come than it yields in this. Such, indeed, 
was precisely the impression that it made on his sis- 
ter, a sprightly and interesting young lady. "If 
this," said she, on witnessing some of his painful con- 
flicts, " is religion, I wish to keep as far from it as 
possible." 

Little-faith is the representative of a pretty nume- 
rous class of Christians. They may be found within, 
and straying around, almost every church. Most 
Christians, at one time or another, belong to this fra- 
ternity. Few of them, throughout life, escape this in- 
firmity ; but old Christians have less of it than young 
converts, and active, useful Christians are least likely 
to be affected by it. 

' I have a few words of counsel to offer to Littlefaith 
and his brethren, which, I fear, will not prove accepta- 
ble, and which, judging from my past experience, are 
not likely to prove very useful. 

1. Think more of Christ and less of self You 
constantly dwell, in your meditations, on your own 
infirmities and short comings — ^your temptations and 



104 DOUBTING CHRISTIANS. 

dangers— your poverty and unworthiness ; and these 
can yield you naught but shame, distrust and sadness ; 
but think of Christ — ^his love to you — the efficacy of 
his atonement — ^the prevalence of his intercession — 
the faithfulness of his promises — the pleasantness of 
his service — and the glory of his kingdom ; and these 
subjects will exhilerate your spirits, invigorate your 
faith, inflame your love, and fit you for a life of use- 
fulness. 

2. Labor more^ and groan less. Your infirmity is a 
spiritual dyspepsy ; if not induced, at least, greatly 
aggravated, by inactivity ; and it can be cured only 
by an opposite regime. Groaning is but a symptom 
of the malady, and can never tend to mitigate its 
severity ; but labor — laboring for salvation — for souls 
—for Christ, will tend to soothe, if it does not cure it. 
Eise then, brethren, and enter on yom; a|)propriate 
toils. The fields before you are white to harvest, and 
you are invited to share in the labors and revTards of 
the reapers. 

3. Fray mo're^ and cortvplain less. You complain 
of your want of faith — want of love — and want of 
joy — of your evil thoughts — -your sore temptations — 
and your disheartening gloom. We are tired of your 
complaints — they neither edify us, nor profit you. 

" Were half the breath thus vainly spent, 
To Heaven in supplication sent, 
Your cheerful songs, would often be, 
Hear what the Lord hath done for me." 



DOUBTING CHPaSTIANS. 105 

4. Seek a nutritious spiritual aliment. If a vicious 
taste should cause you to read novels ; or even exciting 
religious books, in preference to the Scriptures, no 
wonder you should be sickly and feeble. The un- 
adulterated Word of God is the Christian's proper, 
spiritual nutriment ; and if he reads, studies, and 
" inwardly digests" its sacred truths, he will be nour- 
ished, refreshed, and fitted for usefulness. The Bible 
Christian is not likely to be a Doubting Christian ; 
but strong in faith, fervent in spirit, and ready to 
every good word, and every good work 



LECTURE VI. 



TIMID CHRISTIANS 



In my last Lecture, I endeavored to portray the 
character of Doubting Christians. Closely allied to 
this class is another, which I propose to describe this 
evening — Timid Christians, 

They are legitimate descendants of Doubting Chris- 
tians. Strong faith would banish timidity from the 
Christian world. Why should any Christian be in- 
timidated ? Is not God his Father ? Does not his 
Father love him ? Will he not take care of him ? 
Has he not promised to guid^ him, supply his wants, 
protect him, and fit him for heaven ? Why, then, 
should he be afraid ? Simply because he does not 
firmly believe, or trust in God. Had he strong faith 
he could, like Luther, in the darkest hour of adversity 
and peril, derive comfort, strength, and courage from 
the forty-sixth Psalm — *^ God is our refuge and 
strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore 
will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and 
though the mountains be carried into the midst of the 



sea." 



Timidity must not be confounded with discretion. 
Discretion is much more likely to be associated with 



TIMID CHPaSTIANS. 107 

courage than with timidity. Discretion foresees dan- 
gers — and, without a sacrifice of principles, aims to 
avoid, or prepares to meet them. Timidity magnifies 
dangers in the distance, seeks, by pusillanimous com- 
pliances, to evade them, and faints at their approach. 
Paul was discreet, when, at Damascus, to avoid the 
rage of his enemies, he was let down over the wall in 
a basket : Peter was timid, when, at the first sign of 
danger, he solemnly denied his Master, 

Timidity i^ an infirmity by no means new among 
the people of God. The children of Israel, delivered, 
by a succession of wonders, from Egyptian bondage, 
marched, after some delay, to the border of the prom- 
ised land, Moses, by divine commandment, sent 
twelve men — from every tribe a man — to spy out the 
land of Canaan, bring specimens of its fruits, and re- 
port its condition to the congregation. They exam- 
ined the land and returned. They gave a glowing 
account of the country and its productions — " We 
came unto the land whither thou sentest us, and sure- 
ly it floweth with milk and honey; and this is the 
fruit of it." But they were greatly discouraged at its 
strength. *' Nevertheless," said they, " the people be 
strong that dwell in the land, and the cities are wall- 
ed, and very great ; and moreover, we saw the chil- 
dren of Anak there ; we be not able to go up against 
the people, for they are stronger than we." And the 
congregation, intimidated and discouraged, wept and 
murmured against Moses and Aaron. But why should 
they have been frightened ? Had not God promised 



108 TIMID CHRISTIANS. 

to give them the land ? Was he not able to fulfill his 
promise ? Ought not the wonders which he wrought 
in Egypt to have convinced them of his power and 
purpose to protect them ? Had the cities of Canaan 
been a thousand times more strongly fortified, and 
their inhabitants a thousand times more formidable 
than they were represented to be, the hosts of the 
Lord, relying on his promised aid^ should have moved 
forward without fear or hesitancy. With such a 
leader victory was certain. But they, timid souls, 
were seized with a panic, and rebelling against Moses^ 
and against God, were doomed to wander and perish 
in the deserts of Arabia. In this case we perceive 
that timidity^di^ the fruit oidauhting. 

Had the Israelites believed in God, as did Caleb, 
and Joshua, they would have gone up at once, and 
possessed the land; but '' they could not enter in be- 
cause of unbelief."* 

Timidity is with some Christians an occasional^ 
not a habitual infirmity. The history of the apostle 
Peter illustrates this remark. It was an act of 
shameful cowardice in Peter to deny his Lord on a 
mere suspicion of danger. This guilty conduct was 
contrary to the natural character of the man, and 
owing to a sudden and overpowering panic. The look 
of Jesus brought him to repentance, and restored him 
to his wonted courage. Afterwards when the apostles 
were brought before the Jewish Council, because they 

* Hek iii:10. 



TIMID CHRISTIANS. lOS 

"preached through Jesus the resurrection of the 
dead,'' Peter nobly atoned for his momentary coward- 
ice by his indomitable courage. " Whether it be 
right," he said to his fierce and unrelenting judges, 
*^ in the sight of God to hearken unto you, more than 
unto God, judge ye."* 

A Christian of this class, with whom I am well 
acquainted, and whom I sincerely love, I will intro- 
duce to the congregation — brother Faint-heart, He 
is naturally amiable, and grace has made him pious. 
It would be strange if he had many enemies, for he is 
surely one of the most inoffensive of men. If he sus- 
pected that he had wounded the feelings of a brother, 
in the most innocent manner, it would cost him a 
sleepless night. So guarded is he against inflicting 
pain, that he would carefully turn out of his path to 
avoid crushing a worm. Few men are more esteemed 
and loved than he, and less likely to bring reproach 
on the cause of Christ. 

Brother Faint-heart feels a deep interest in the 
prosperity of the church of which he is a member — 
earnestly prays for it — and sincerely rejoices in all 
the good which others do ; but makes very little ef- 
fort to be useful himself. The reason is this — ^he 
sees insuperable difficulties and appalling dangers in 
every good enterprise. He saith, with the slothful 
man, " There is a lion without ; I shall be slain in 
the streets." Propose to him any scheme for promo- 

* Acts iv : 9. 



110 TIMID CHRISTIANS. 

ting the welfare of the church, extending the know- 
ledge of Christ, or mitigating human misery, and he 
is almost sure to be pleased with it. The object is 
good — the plan to secure it is good — the agents to be 
employed are good ; but the scheme he perceives, or 
fancies, is, from some cause, impracticable. Its friends 
will be few and lukewarm — somebody's feelings may 
be wounded by the enterprize — or, at least, he is not 
satisfied that every body will approve it; and he 
would, at present, prefer to have nothing to do with 
it. He is slow to engage in any good work — tardy 
in executing it — and quickly faints at discouragement. 
He is greatly wanting in the aggressive princi pies of 
Christianity; but should persecution overtake, him, 
he would, probably, endure it with exemplary forti- 
tude. 

Brother Faint-heart is proverbial for having no 
mind of his own. Not that he is incapable of judging, 
for he possesses an intellect of rather more than ordina- 
ry clearness ; but he is afraid to trust his own judg- 
ment. If he errs he would greatly prefer to lay the 
blame on the shoulders of another than to bear it him- 
self. It might be reasonably supposed that he would 
look around him for some leader, on whose judgment 
he could repose confidence, and whose authority might 
release him from the painful necessity of forming 
opinions for himself. Such a leader it was not diffi- 
cult for him to find. Deacon Obstinate is a promi- 
nent member of the church to which Faint-heart be- 
longs. In character they differ widely. Obstinate is 



TIMID CHRISTIANS. Ill 

self-confident, bold, unyielding, and overbearing ; has 
frequently points which he is anxious to carry in the 
church, and which he would carry at any sacrifice ; 
and is constantly seeking to attach to himself and his 
plans such members of the church as he can influence. 
Brother Faint-heart was a suitable man for his pur- 
pose. He visited him, talked much with him, and 
soon enjoyed the pleasure of numbering him among 
his adherents. Faint-heart is a man of more dis- 
cernment and information than the Deacon — but what 
the latter lacks in judgment, he makes up in strength 
of will. In order to know how Faint-heart will vote 
in any case, it is necessary to watch the movements 
of Deacon Obstinate, However unreasonable and 
perverse the course advocated by the Deacon, he is 
sure to support it ; or, if his conscience — he has a 
tender conscience — will not allow him to do so, he 
frames some excuse for staying away from the church 
meeting, that he may give no offence to his friend. 
This subserviency of the brother to the views of the 
headstrong Deacon would render him unpopular, did 
the brethren not know his weakness, and did he not 
possess so many amiable and redeeming traits of char- 
acter. 

I have already intimated that brother Faint-heart 
has few enemies. On one occasion, however, his want 
of courage involved him in serious difficulties. In 
private conversation he had been led into some severe, 
but just remarks, concerning a profession not very re- 
putable. A member of the profession hearing of the 



112 TIMID CHUISTIANS. 

remarks, called on him, in an angry tone, and with 
menacing looks, demanding to know whether he had 
uttered such remarks. He remembered and approved 
them, and the public would have sustained him in 
proclaiming them ; but the poor man was frightened 
out of his senses, equivocated, and made concessions 
derogatory to his character. This unmanly course 
involved him in fresh difficulties with those who would 
have firmly sustained him in a frank, bold, and honor- 
able course. Throughout his painful embarrassments 
it was apparent that his difficulties arose from lack of 
courage to speak and act according to the dictates of 
his own conscience. 

Brother Faint-heart has, I have no doubt, many 
relatives in this church, who warmly sympathize in 
his fears. The difficulties, dangers, and troubles of a 
religious life occupy their thoughts to the exclusion 
of the divine succors and the certain and glorious tri- 
umphs which are promised to the faithful. They do 
not, like the ancient Jewish rulers, love " the praise 
of men more than the praise of God ;" but they are 
more discouraged by the threats of God's enemies, 
than inspirited by God's promises. They know, when 
they consider the matter, that the cause of truth and 
righteousness must prevail ; but their fears triumph 
over their judgments. Were a church composed 
wholly of such members it would resemble, not a dis- 
ciplined, courageous, and conquering army, but a tim- 
id flock of sheep, fleeing at the approach of danger, 
and easily destroyed by their enemies. Had the 



TIMID CHRISTIANS. 113 

primitive Christians resembled them in spirit, we 
should have no record of their persecutions, their 
stripes, their imprisonments, and their martyrdoms; 
nor would their labors and triumphs have been the 
wonder of the world. Christianity would have main- 
tained a feeble strife, would have shed no blood to 
ennoble her cause, and would have perished in her 
infancy. Had Luther possessed this spirit, as Me- 
lancthon did, he would not have braved the thunders 
of the Vatican, and freed half of Europe from the 
spiritual domination of the Papacy. In short, had 
this spirit universally prevailed, the Inquisition had 
been saved from its labors of torture and death, and 
'^ the noble army of martyrs'' had never been mar- 
shalled. 

I would affectionately urge Timid Christians to 
obey the apostolic exhortation — " "Watch ye, stand 
fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong." You 
profess to follow a Master, who, in the maintenance 
of your cause, laid down his life. Your brethren, in 
all ages, have meekly and cheerfully submitted to re- 
proach and sufferings, when these have been incurred 
in the faithful discharge of their obligations to Christ. 
You are engaged in a good cause — the cause of truth, 
holiness, and human salvation ; nor are you alone in 
this blessed work ; the holy angels are your co-la- 
borers, and G-od — Father, Son, and Spirit — is pledged 
for its final triumph. Can you be discouraged in 
such an enterprize ? In this work you will need 
courage — moral courage — the courage that promptly 



114 TIMID CHRISTIANS. 

does right, regardless of frowns, ridicule and danger; 
and this courage is the legitimate offspring of faith. 
Seek to have clear and comprehensive views of the 
divine character, word, and purposes; and commit all 
your interests and ways to Him ; and then, with the 
Psalmist, you may boldly say — " In God I have put 
my trust ; I will not fear what flesh can do unto me." 
In conclusion, I would guard my hearers against 
running into the opposite extreme — rashness, Peter, 
a man of extremes, was rash, when, with his sword, 
he cut off the ear of the high priest's servant. The 
act could be justified neither by religious nor civil 
policy, but was the inconsiderate impulse of an ar- 
dent, generous nature, differing widely, as his conduct 
soon showed, from true courage. Courage is cool, 
calculating, as ready to flee as to fight, when fighting 
would be vain, and flight secure safety : rashness is 
hasty, heedless, and more likely to provoke -than main- 
tain a conflict. Timidity is the infirmity of a soft, 
complying, and generally amiable disposition : rash- 
ness is the exuberance of an ardent, restive, and ir- 
rascible temper. Timidity degenerates into mean- 
ness ; rashness leads to violence and injustice. Chris- 
tians are, perhaps, more in danger of rashness than 
timidity ; and I beseech such as are of a quick and 
ardent temper to be on their guard, lest in some mo- 
ment of excitement they should say or do something 
which years of painful regret cannot atone for. 



LECTURE VII. 

INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

Man was formed for employment. He is endowed 
witli powers, bodily and intellectual, upon whose pro- 
per exercise depend his enjoyment, usefulness and dig- 
nity. When he came from the Creator's hand, pure, 
lovely and vigorous, the noblest creature of the earth, 
he was placed ^^ in the garden of Eden to dress it, and 
to keep it." This occupation, unattended with fatigue 
and care, cultivated his taste, expanded his powers, 
and promoted his happiness. When he ate the for- 
bidden fruit of ^^ the tree of the knowledge of good 
and evil," he was expelled from Eden, the ground was 
cursed with barrenness for his sake, and he was doomed 
to eat bread in the sweat of his face. The law requir- 
ing him to take exercise was not revoked, but became a 
curse. E-efreshing employment was changed into 
labor, with its inevitable effects, fatigue, care and pain. 
Grace, which makes many and important changes in 
man's condition, real and relative, does not free him 
from the law of labor, but converts it into a blessing. 
The Christian is a laborer. He serves a Master whose 
life was one of incessant toil, anxiety and suffering. 
" I must," said the Redeemer, " work the works of 



116 mDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

him that sent me, while it is day : the night eometh, 
when no man can work."* Transcendently important 
is the work to which the believer is called. He is a 
laborer " together with God."t He toils to promote 
the glorious plan for the success of which Jesus died 
on Calvary, and reigns in heaven. He has a great 
work to perform for himself — a work which neither 
men, nor angels, nor God can perform for him. He 
must work out his " own salvation with fear and 
trembling."! And this arduous task will demand in- 
cessant watchfulness, prayer, self-denial, obedience, 
and perseverance to the end of life. He must '^ strive" 
— agonize — " to enter in at the strait gate."^ The prize 
is for him that wins — the crown for him that over- 
comes. Christ has no idler in his vineyard. The 
Christian has a most important work to do for others. 
He is continued on earth for the purpose of doing as 
well as getting good. He is in a world filled with 
sin, ignorance and misery. Souls are perishing around 
him for lack of knowledge. He is divinely appointed 
to hold " forth the word of life;"|| and it is at his 
peril, if he fails to do it. Every Christian is required, 
according to his ability, and opportunities, to teach 
men the way of life. After the martyrdom of the 
evangelist Stephen, ^^ there was a great persecution 
against the church which was at Jerusalem ; and they 
were all scattered abroad throughout the regions of 

* John ix ; 4. +1 Cor. iii ; 9. % Phil, ii : 12. 

^Lukexiii: 24. ||Phil. ii: 16. 



INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 117 

Judea and Samaria, except the apostles. — Therefore 
they that were scattered abroad went every where 
preaching the word."* The believing husband, or 
wife, is bound to labor for the conversion of the unbe- 
lieving companion. " For what knowest thou, 
wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband ? or how 
knowest thou, man, whether thou shalt save thy 
wife ?"t Every one who has heard the gospel mes- 
sage is authorized to proclaim it; ^^And let him that 
heareth say, Come.":|: The believer is required not 
merely to publish the Gospel with his lips, but to 
illustrate and commend it by his life, and by all the 
means in his power to promote its diffusion and suc- 
cess in the world. To fulfill his high commission, he 
must be a laborer — must cultivate the Lord's vine- 
yard — must fight the Lord's battles. It will be need- 
ful for him to prepare for the work — enter upon it 
with resolution — prosecute it with fidelity — and con- 
tinue it to the end. The ignorant must be instructed 
— the perverse reproved — the feeble strengthened — 
the sorrowful comforted — the wavering established — 
the wandering reclaimed — and the Gospel published 
in all the world. Every Christian is not called to be 
a pastor — a missionary — a translator of the Scriptures 
— or a defender of the faith ; but the feeblest and the 
most obscure has his appropriate work, and perform- 
ing it faithfully, he will receive the crown of life. An 
efficient church is aptly compared " to a company of 

* Acts viii : 1, 4. f 1 Cor. vii : 16. i Rev. xzii: 17. 



118 INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

horses in Pharaoh's chariot"* — all active, spirited, 
well broken, and moving in harmony. 

I have briefly described what all Christians should 
be and do ; but, alas ! many are indolent. They are 
BOt wholly inactive ; for then would they be dead — 
unworthy the name of Christians. They are slug- 
glish, slothful and inejfficient servants. They travel 
the right road, but travel slowly. They labor in the 
Lord's vineyard ; but laboring without earnestness 
and stability of purpose, they accomplish but little. 
They are pregnant with schemes of usefulness, to 
which they never give birth. They have laid the foun- 
dation of many fair buildings, which they have lacked 
the industry to finish. And most of the good which 
they accomplish loses much of its value, by the delay 
and vexation in its production. In fine, they are 
living, but sickly Christians — reversing the prophetic 
description, they run and are weary ; and they walk^ 
and are faint. \ 

Elder Ephraim Doolittle is a very respectable re- 
presentative of this class of Christians. Having 
known him intimately from his youth, I will make no 
apology for delineating his character. He professed 
religion just as he reached manhood. Of his sincerity 
none ever entertained a doubt. His religious expe- 
rience was clear, pungent and Scriptural. In uniting 
with a church, he made such sacrifices, and submitted 
to reproach with such meekness, as inspired full con- 

* Song of Sol. i : 9. t Isa. xl : 81. 



INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 119 

dence in his piety. His genius, education, zeal, and 
social position gave promise of great usefulness. It 
was not long before he entered, at the solicitation of 
his brethren, the Christian ministry. A bright career 
of usefulness seemed at once to open before him. His 
gifts were popular ; and, for a time, his labors were 
eminently successful. A rich blessing every where 
attended his ministrations. No preacher of his age 
commanded larger congregations, or was held in higher 
estimation. For a few years his labors were desultory 
and itinerant. During this period the vice, which was 
afterwards so seriously to impair his usefulness, did not 
strikingly exhibit itself. His intimate friends knew, 
indeed, that he was fond of ease, self-indulgent, and 
strongly inclined to indolence ; but they hoped that 
the responsibilities of a pastorate would call into ex- 
ercise the fine powers of his mind, and make him 
more diligent in his high calling. 

A fact will serve to show the evil influence which 
Doolittle's sluggish habits were likely to exert among 
a plain, industrious people. He had a neighbor named 
Swift, I was speaking to him of the fine abilities, 
and extensive popularity of Mr. Doolittle. He 
said, thoughtfully, *^ I have lost all confidence in him." 
Surprised at such a remark, I inquired, " Why ?" 
He replied, " I went to his house not long since, after 
I had eaten my breakfast, and found him in bed." 
" Perhaps," said I, " he was unwell." " Unwell, in- 
deed !" answered Simft^ " he is lazy.'^'' I do not jus- 
tify the judgment of Swift — it was unwarrantable and 



120 INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

harsh — ^nor did he mean all that his language signi- 
fied ; but I mention the fact to show by what slight 
considerations the influence of a minister may be 
diminished. 

The first settlement of brother Doolittle as a pas- 
tor was in a pleasant, prosperous town. He com- 
menced his labors with the most encouraging pros- 
pects of success. His pulpit services were highly ac- 
ceptable, and his easy manners, and sociable habits 
made him a welcome visitor in every family. His 
congregations were large, and several valuable ac- 
cessions were made to the church. It was not long, 
however, before there was an obvious decline in the 
power of his ministry. His sermons lacked variety. 
His favorite arguments, anecdotes, and figures of 
speech were repeated, until they became familiar to 
his hearers. Occasionally, he would preach a new ser- 
mon, which would evince his intellectual resources, and 
prop his tottering reputation. But this would be fol- 
lowed by a succession of discourses, almost every topic 
of which was commenced with the ominous words, 
" As you have often heard me say before." It was 
clear, to the observant, that he could not long retain 
his position. His habits were notoriously indolent. 
He was rarely dressed ia time for breakfast — read 
novels, when he should have studied his Bible — 
lounged at a hotel, when he should have visited the 
members of his congregation — spent the time in idle 
gossip, which he should have devoted to preparation 
for the pulpit — and showed more concern to have 



INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 121 

good dinners, than to comfort the afflicted. Matters 
were drawing to a crisis. The influence of the pastor 
was waning, and the dissatisfaction in the flock was in- 
creasing. An event soon occurred which resulted in 
their separation. 

One Sabbath morning, Elder Dooliitle preached a 
sermon of unusual power and beauty. He outpreached 
himself. His congregation were taken by surprise. 
They had scarcely ever heard a sermon of equal rich- 
ness and splendor. It inspired hope that the pastor 
might redeem his character, and influence. In a few 
days a young preacher, of no reputation, visited the 
town, and was invited by the pastor to occupy his 
pulpit. By a singular coincidence, the novice took 
the same text from which the congregation had listen- 
ed to so brilliant a sermon on the preceding Lord's day. 
Their attention was instantly quickened. They were 
curious to compare the two discourses, supposing that 
the imperfections of the latter would more strikingly 
display the excellencies of the former. The first sen- 
tence uttered by the young minister was precisely that 
with which Doolittle commenced his sermon. There 
was now a breathless interest in the assembly. They 
were amazed to hear the same sermon, word for word, 
which they had listened to on the previous Sunday 
with so much pleasure. Doolittle sat in the pulpit, 
behind the young plagiarist, in full view of the con- 
gregation. The discourse was as full and sparkling 
as ever, but it was enjoyed neither by the church nor 
the pastor. A smile played upon the countenances 



122 INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

of many of the worldly as they marked the changing 
hues in the face of Elder Doolittle. I need not at- 
tempt to describe his feelings. They were far from 
being enviable. Next morning, he found on his desk 
a volume of Saurin's sermons, opened at the very dis- 
course which had gained him so much praise, and led 
to such painful mortification. The poor man's repu- 
tation could not survive in that place the shock which 
it received. It is needless to note the events that fol- 
lowed. He soon changed his residence. 

The next settlement of Elder Doolittle was with 
the Sleepy River church. Never was a connection 
more congenial. The church is situated in a rural 
district. Its members were mostly farmers, and per- 
sons belonging to their families, who lived in retire- 
ment, and, if not rich, were desirous and struggling to 
be. They had been badly trained. Their meetings 
for religious worship were infrequent, their scriptural 
knowledge was very meagre, and their discipline was 
exceedingly loose. They preferred exciting to instruc- 
tive preaching, and had no relish for practical dis- 
courses. Their new pastor was deemed a prodigy in 
talents ; indeed, he was far superior to the elder who 
preceded him, and by whose exertions the church had 
been raised to its present position. The commence- 
ment of Elder Doolittle^s labors was signalized by a 
revival in the church, and a considerable increase of 
its membership. But soon the excitement passed away, 
and both pastor and people settled down into a quiet, 
satisfied state. He usually reached the place of meet- 



INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 123 

ing late — frequently an hour after the appointed time. 
His sermons were stereotyped. The same texts, trains 
of thought, illustrations, modes of expression, and es- 
pecially stories, were repeated until they became famil- 
iar to all the congregation, except such as had the most 
treacherous memories. At long intervals, the monoto- 
ny of his ministrations was broken by an original and 
forcible sermon on some controverted point, which 
showed what eminence he might have attained by the 
diligent improvement of his gifts. After the Lord's 
day services were over, he usually went home with 
some member of the church ; and, it was observed, 
that he always went where he was likely to fare best. 
He refused to dine with sister Poor — whose daughter 
was sick, needed religious instruction, and was de- 
sirous to see him — but went farther, and over a worse 
road, to dine with sister Rich^ because she kept a 
sumptuous table. The church would have become 
extinct under his ministry, but for an occasional re- 
vival, through the labors of a visiting evangelist, and 
accessions from other churches by certificates of dis- 
mission. 

Never did a pastor more fully succeed in infusing 
his own spirit into his flock than did Doolittle. Their 
history furnishes a striking exemplification of the 
adage, " Like priest, like people." He is greatly be- 
loved by his church, for he is, in truth, a lovely man. 
They contemplate him as a model of Christian excel- 
lence. They do not hope to equal him — to excel him 
they think impossible. They come to the meetings 



124 INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

late, some of them sleep soundly during the services, 
all praise the sermons, and return to their homes to 
eat warm, rich dinners, deeming themselves highly fa- 
vored if they can have the company of their pastor. 
They have no Sunday-school, no prayer-meeting, and 
no week-day lecture. Their house of worship, scarcely 
large enough for their accommodation, is inconvenient, 
unsightly, and dilapidated. They promise their pas- 
tor a small salary, and never pay it. To benevolent 
enterprizes they contribute nothing systematically. 
They are constantly growing richer, and their contri- 
butions for religious objects are as steadily diminish- 
ing in an inverse ratio. They dislike agencies — pre- 
fer contributing without solicitation, and in their own 
way ; but their contributions are niggardly — unworthy 
of themselves, the gospel which they profess to be- 
lieve, the objects for which they are intended, and the 
Saviour whose name they bear. They give copper 
when they should give silver, and silver when they 
should give gold ; and were their offerings increased 
a hundred-fold, their means of enjoyment would not 
be diminished. A smile was provoked at a session of 
the Association by an accidental omission of a word 
in their church letter. The clerk read with great dis- 
tinctness, " The Sleepy church sendeth Christian sal- 
utation." All were amused at the appropriateness 
of the title. 

Elder Doolittle is a good man. A more amiable, 
inoffensive man, I have never known. Of a dishonor- 
able act, he has never been charged. All his faults 



INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 125 

have spruDg from self-indulgence. He has always felt 
and lamented the evil ; and frequently has made ear- 
nest, ineffectual efforts to correct it. Once he seemed 
likely to form the habit of early rising. For several 
months he rose with the sun, and found great refresh- 
ment in the morning breezes ; but a slight indisposi- 
tion seemed to demand the indulgence of his old 
habit, and tha first indulgence extinguished all hope of 
his reformation. At another time he made a vigorous 
effort to subdue the fondness for chewing tobacco. He 
thought, for a while, that he had gained an easy triumph. 
But to reward himself for his self-denial, he indulged 
occasionally in smoking a cigar. This indulgence soon 
grew into a habit. This habit, proving quite as ex- 
pensive and injurious as chewing, was changed into the 
practice of snuff taking. And this again led to chew- 
ing. So the reformation, so hopefully begun, instead 
of curing one evil habit, added two others equally per- 
nicious and offensive. 

It is not easy to decide in what degree Doolittle 
should be pitied or blamed for his infirmities. They 
originate in his temperament. He is of a soft, pliable, 
sluggish nature. His intellect is vigorous when 
aroused, but he is almost free from ambition. His 
education, too, was unfavorable to the development of 
his powers, and the formation of active habits. He 
was indulged from his childhood — slept when he should 
have studied, and played when he should have labored. 
His studies were desultory; and, consequently, his 
attainments were various rather than profound. Under 



126 INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

a dijfferent system of discipline^ he would have been 
far better fitted for the laborious duties of life. It 
must be admitted, too, that his peculiarities have been 
intensified by his connection with the Sleepy River 
church. Had his circumstances impelled him to 
study he would have made far greater progress, than 
he has done, in the acquisition of knowledge, and in 
the power of his ministry. But the church are more 
than satisfied, they are enraptured, with his feeblest 
efforts. No repetitions weary them. All attempts 
to instruct them in the higher branches of Christian 
doctrine would, with their present tastes and habits, 
be lost on them. They deem their pastor the prince 
of preachers ; and he is pleased that he occupies a po- 
sition, in which he can sustain himself with credit, 
without the unsupportable fatigue of studying, or 
seriously interfering with the ease and social pleasure 
which he so much values. 

Elder Doolittle is now an old man. He spends his 
time in eating, drinking, smoking, lounging, easy exer- 
cise, social converse, day dreaming, sleeping, and re- 
peating weekly, to his admiring church, the sermons 
which he prepared in his youth. I am grieved when I 
think of him. He might have been a preacher of the 
first class : he scarcely ranks with the third. Nature 
did much for him — he has done but little for himself. 
He has been, in some measure, useful — he might have 
been eminently so. He occupies an obscure position 
— ^he might have filled a prominent one. His influ- 
ence will be almost limited to his life time — he might 



INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 127 

haye exerted a deepening and widening influence on 
future generations. He is much beloved in the nar- 
row sphere of his labors — he might have been exten- 
sively admired and honored, as well as loved. His 
study famishes an instructive lesson for young minis- 
ters. There you may see plans of sermons, not filled 
out — treatises on important subjects, with a few pages 
written, and the rest in loose, and unintelligible notes 
— and schemes for usefulness projected and recorded, 
that have never been executed. All these are sad 
mementoes of his indolence, and instability of pur- 
pose. Had these sermons, and treatises been fully and 
carefully written out, and these schemes of usefulness 
been vigorously and diligently prosecuted, they would 
be enduring monumjents of his talents, and give him 
rank among the benefactors of the age. How differ- 
ent would his life have been from what it really is ! 

In conclusion, I will address three classes of pro- 
fessing Christians — 

1. The indolent, I will not, my brethren, affirm 
that your salvation is impossible. I know that we 
should " labor, that whether present or absent, we may 
be accepted of God.* A living faith shows itself by 
good works. An idler can have no part in the king- 
dom of Christ. But you, it is to be hoped, are not 
entirely indolent. In what measure your slugglishness 
and inactivity may be ascribed to your unfortunate 
temperament, early training, and habits formed pre- 

* 2 Cor. V : 9. 



128 INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

yiously to your conversion, only G-od knows. Take 
care that the doom pronounced on the " wicked and 
slothful servant" be not yours. " Cast ye the un- 
profitable servant into outer darkness : there shall be 
weeping and gnashing of teeth. ""^ You may, indeed ! 
be saved, but you cannot be %iseful. Success is the 
fruit of labor. Idleness yields nothing but misery 
and shame. If all Christians were like you, the king- 
dom of Grod would be overthrown in the earth, and all 
efforts to arrest the progress of sin would cease. You 
may be saved, but you cannot be respected. You may 
be pitied for your infirmities, endured for your inof- 
fensiveness, and even loved for your amiableness, but 
who can respect or venerate the idle and worthless ? 
Arouse, then, from your lethargy. Motives high as 
heaven, deep as hell, vast as eternity, press you to en- 
gage in earnest, persevering, heaven-directed labors. 
What you do, must be done quickly. " Whatsoever 
thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for 
there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wis- 
dom in the grave, whither thou goest.'^f 

2. Those who are diligent to little ^purpose. This 
is a numerous class, abounding within, as well as 
without, the churches. I doubt not many of this sort 
now hear me. You, my dear friends, obey the divinely 
inspired caution, " Not slothful in business." What- 
ever promotes your health, comfort, wealth, respecta- 
bility and influence receives prompt attention. You 

* Mat. XXV ; 26. f Eccl. ix : 10. 



INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 129 

are emphatically men of business — thoughtful, enter- 
prising, industrious, persevering, and economical. 
Every hour finds you at your post. Every secular 
interest is properly secured. Now, this is commenda- 
ble. It is not the purpose of Christianity to arrest 
the needful occupations of life. It cannot be justly 
charged with the manifold evils of monasticism. It 
demands no seclusion from the world, and no abandon- 
ment of the useful and ornamental pursuits of life. 
Were all its claims duly respected, there would be no 
injury but a decided advantage to the industrial in- 
terests of the world. Agriculture would still reap 
her harvests, the arts would flourish, in full vigor, and 
commerce would spread her sails, and freight her trea- 
sures on every sea. But this, my friends, is your con- 
demnation, that while every earthly, transitory interest 
receives prompt and earnest attention, the vast and 
imperishable interests of the soul are wholly neglected, 
or command but slight and momentary regard. You 
are careful and troubled about many things, but for- 
get the " one thing needful." Your bodies are fed, 
adorned and protected — ^your families are bountifully 
provided for — your houses are painted, insured and 
guarded — the beasts of your stalls have their daily 
supplies — but your souls, in which are concentrated 
all your real worth, and all your hope for the future, 
are sadly neglected. Alas ! they are worse than ne- 
glected. They are cruelly murdered. By your sing, 
of omission and commission, and, especially, by your 
rejection of the Gospel of Christ, you are doing what 



130 INDOLENT CHRISTIANS. 

you can to exclude them from the kingdom of heaven, 
and plunge them into hell. If you were as conside- 
rate, diligent and zealous concerning the interests of 
your souls as of your bodies — of eternity as of time 
— ^you would be shining Christians, and secure an 
. abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom. I 
expostulate with you in the words of a poet : 

" Why will ye waste on trifling cares 
That life which God's compassion spares, 
While, in the various range of thought, 
The one thing needful is forgot 7" 

3. Those who are diligently and usefully employed. 
You are Christ's laborers. You labor in his field, 
under his guidance, and prompted by love to him, and 
the hope of a reward from him. Your toils are ardu- 
ous, taxing the energies of your minds and bodies. 
You are frequently discouraged in your efforts to do 
good, by the difficulty of the work, a sense of your 
unfitness for it, providential hindrances in it, the per- 
verseness and ingratitude of those whose welfare you 
would promote, the indifference of professing Chris- 
tians, and your want of success. But be ^^ not weary 
in well doing; for in due season''- you " shall reap, if" 
you "faint not."* Your toil maybe severe, but it 
will not long continue. Your reward may be deferred, 
but it is certain, and it will be timely, great and en- 
during. 

* Gal. vi: 9. 



LECTURE Vin. 

INCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 

I SHALL proceed at once to portray Inconstant 
Christians, The best Christians, in their best 
estate, are, in some degree, inconstant. Only God is 
immutable. The feelings, plans, efforts and views of 
the most matured and established Christian are varia- 
ble. But by Inconstant Christians^ I mean those 
who are remarkable for their instability — who are gov- 
erned by circumstances, or impulse, rather than prin- 
ciple. Other Christians change, of necessity, as their 
knowledge increases, as time advances, and as their 
interests, responsibilities and circumstances vary ; but 
Inconstant Christia^is are given to change — change 
frequently — change greatly — change from no conceiv- 
able reason, but the mere love of changing. The 
Christians of the G-alatian churches belonged to this 
class. When Paul came among them, they received 
him as a messenger of God, and, so fervent was their 
love for him, that had it been possible they would 
have plucked out their own eyes, and have given them 
to him ; but afterwards they deemed him their enemy, 
because he told them the truth,* They received the 

* Gal. iv : 14, 16. 



132 mCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 

Gospel from the apostle, but were soon perverted by 
artful, Judaizing teachers. " I marvel," said Paul, 
" that ye are so soon removed from him that called 
you into the grace of Christ, unto another Gospel : 
which is not another ; but there be some that trouble 
you, and would pervert the Gospel of Christ."* The 
chain of apostolical succession has probably been 
broken in many links ; but that there has been a regu- 
lar and unbroken succession of Inconstant Christians 
in the churches of Christ, will scarcely be denied. 

I cannot better make you acquainted with the de- 
fects of this class of Christians, than by describing 
the character of a well known member of it — brother 
Fickle. I was present when he professed conversion ; 
and his case seemed to be a most remarkable instance 
of the power of divine grace. He had been a bold 
and reckless transgressor — his convictions were pun- 
gent, and his penitence was, apparently, sincere and 
deep — and sudden as the lightning, hope and joy 
flashed on his mind. He had no doubts, no timidity, 
no apprehensions, his countenance was bright, he 
praised aloud the God of salvation, and exhorted all 
his friends to seek mercy. He was promptly bap- 
tized, and added to the church. Great hope of his 
usefulness was entertained by the brethren. Cer- 
tainly, he promised well. He was intelligent, respect- 
able, energetic, and, above all, eminently zealous. 

A sad declension, however, soon occurred in the 

* Gal. i : 6-7. 



INCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 133 

church. Grood men, and true, mourned, and prayed, 
and struggled. I shall never forget the earnestness, 
and grief, and diligence of old brother Holdfast^ who 
has since gone to his reward, in this time of darkness 
and trial. He was a great comfort to me. But 
brother Fickle imbibed the spirit of the world, entered 
into absorbing speculations, and violent political ex- 
citements, was rarely seen in the sanctuary, never at 
the prayer meeting, neglected all his religious duties, 
participated in several disgraceful affrays, and was on 
the very point of apostasy and ruin. His brethren 
talked with him, warned him of his danger, and sought 
to reclaim him ; but their labor was vain. About 
this time, a delightful and spreading revival com- 
menced in the church. Soon brother Fickle seemed 
to be re-converted. The change in him was not less 
remarkable than it was at first. He was a new man — 
his heart was tender — he confessed his sins, with great 
apparent humiliation — he sang among the loudest and 
most devout — he prayed, very acceptably, in meetings 
for social worship — and was ready, at all times, to 
converse on religious subjects. He was now fulfilling 
the expectations that were early entertained of his 
usefulness. 

The change in brother Fickle appeared to be so 
thorough, and his deportment was really so consistent, 
and he had so learned from sad experience, the folly 
of departing from Christ, that we hoped he would not 
again backslide. But we were disappointed. His 
zeal declined with the fervor of the revival. To all 



134 INCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 

the neglects and follies of his former' declension, it 
was now strongly suspected that he added the sin of 
drunkenness. The proof of his guilt was not certain. 
He was fond of strong drink — -visited dram-shops 
more frequently than either inclination or business 
would be likely to lead a temperate man . to do— and 
the inflamed appearance of his face was a sign against 
him. Much to his credit, it must be said, that when 
Deacon Faithful heard the rumor of his drunkenness, 
visited him, and expostulated with him on the danger 
of his habits, he promptly signed the Total Absti- 
nence pledge ; and for a time, at least, observed it 
with fidelity. 

Brother FicJde came to me one day, at the com- 
mencement of the year, with tears in his eyes, saying, 
" I have determined to do better this year than I have 
ever done before. I will attend the meetings of the 
church, and perform my religious duties, whatever 
else I may neglect." I was pleased with his sponta- 
neous resolutions, and deemed them both timely and 
important. For several weeks, I saw his face at 
every meeting ; then I missed it occasionally, and soon 
altogether, except on extraordinary occasions. If we 
had a strange preacher, or a baptism, or any unusual 
interest or excitement in the meetings, no member was 
more likely to be present than he ; and a visitor judg- 
ing from such occasions, would conclude that he was 
the most active and valuable member of the church. 

Brother Fickle is never long pleased with the same 
preacher. One morning I chanced to meet him. He 



. INCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 135 

was not then a member of our churcli ; and, I may 
remark, in passing, that lie has several times, without 
necessity, changed his church connection. A bright 
smile was on his countenance as he inquired of me — 
'' Have you heard our new preacher ? He is the 
greatest orator I have ever heard. Last Sunday night 
his sermon was splendid. Oh, how beautifully he 
says, the rainbow round about the throne /" Not 
long afterwards I learned that a portion of the church 
were disaffected with their ' excellent pastor. I was 
not surprised, on inquiry, to find that brother Fickle 
and his numerous family, were among the discontented. 
Fortunately he had not influence greatly to diminish 
the pastor's usefulness. The good man labored on 
with encouraging success ; but brother Fickle^ unable 
to enjoy his privileges, was seen sometimes in one con- 
gregation and sometimes in another; and not unfre- 
quently found, or supposed he found, more edification 
and comfort in reading the Scriptures at home, or 
riding into the country, to behold the beautiful works 
of God, than in attending on the public ministrations 
of his word. 

When the impulse strikes him, brother Fickle is 
very liberal. He once gave fifty dollars to a Mission 
agent, for whose preaching he conceived a great attach- 
ment, and promised twenty dollars a year to the same 
object; but to the regular church collections he 
generally declines to give any thing, or gives very 
sparingly. I remember that I once called on him to 
contribute to an object which strongly appealed to 



136 INCONSTANT CHPaSTIANS. 

Christian liberality, but he excused himself on the 
ground of poverty : in a few days I learned that he 
had just paid a considerable sum for an article of mere 
curiosity. It is clear that he is governed by no set- 
tled principle in the use of money ; for sometimes he 
bestows it lavishly on objects trivial in themselves, 
and having no claims to his aid, and, at other times, 
he withholds, even a pittance, from objects intrinsi- 
cally important, and making strong appeals to his 
benevolence. Nay, a cause which at one time he 
cherishes and patronizes, at another time, without any 
reason, he not only repudiates, but opposes. 

Brother Pickle's doctrinal views have been as va- 
riable as his religious feelings. He has been a Cal- 
vinist, so uncompromising in his opinions, that he 
could not hear a preacher, with any patience, who did 
not in every sermon furnish evidence of his orthodoxy 
on the Five Points. He has been an Arminian of the 
lowest grade, differing but little in his sentiments from 
a self-righteous formalist. His mind was once unset- 
tled on the subject of communion. At that time it 
ran wholly on the evils of bigotry ; and so deeply was 
it impressed with those evils, that I heard him say, 
that he could not fellowship any man who did not 
agree with him on this subject. Now, however, his 
mind is so occupied with the sublimest of all enter- 
prises, as he deems it, the emendation of the common 
version of the Scriptures in the English language, 
that he has quite forgotten his scruples about close 
communion. He has been on the verge of becoming 



INCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 137 

a Keformer, or "more intelligibly a CampbeUite ; and 
.nothing preserved him from the change but hearing 
from, some of them remarks in derogation of Christian 
experience, I should, in truth, not be greatly sur- 
prised, if he were. to turn a Mormon. His tempera- 
ment would make him, for a season at least, a most 
impetuous , and fiery member of that singular sect. 
The character of brother jPicH^; however singular and 
censurable, can offer no claim to originality. It was 
vividly drawn by an inspired limner nearly eighteen 
centuries ago — " Tossed to and fro, and carried about 
with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, 
and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to de- 
ceive."* . : 

The piety of this Inconstant Christian resembles, 
not a living and perennial fountain, clear and refresh- 
ing; but a wet weather spring, bold and flowing, but 
muddy and uncertain. 

"Do you think," inquired an observant and candid 
man of the world, ^' that Mr. Fickle is a real Chris- 
tian .5*" I confess I am incompetent to answer the 
question. In my early years I had great confidence 
in my ability to judge of men's piety; but I have 
been so frequently deceived both in my favorable and 
unfavorable opinions of men, that I am now very dis- 
trustful of my judgment. I cannot discern brother 
Fickle^ s motives — I know not what degree of imper- 
fection is incompatible with sincere piety — nor can I 

*Eph. iv: 14, 



138 INCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 

judge of the allowance which should be made for his 
impulsive temperament. I must say, he is now a 
member of our church — has been several times under 
discipline, sometimes for neglects and sometimes for 
positive offences ; but he has always been acquitted in 
consequence of his plausible explanations, or excused 
on the ground of his confessions, and promised amend- 
ments. He has been of some advantage, and of se- 
rious disadvantage, to the church. A church com- 
posed wholly of such members would be a religious 
phenomenon, and their history would be more inter- 
esting than any work of fiction. I have, at present, 
no hope that Fickle will soon be expelled from the 
church. His relatives and friends have a decided pre- 
ponderance in the management of its affairs ; and it is 
supposed, though I have not myself made the estimate, 
that four-fifths of the church are related, or friendly 
to him. It should be to us, my brethren, a great com- 
fort that Grod is judge. He knows what is in men, and 
will reward them according to their deeds. 

Inconstant Christians I would exhort, in the lan- 
guage of the apostle — " Therefore, my beloved breth- 
ren, be ye steadfast, and unmovable, always abound- 
ing in the work of the Lord, for as much as ye know 
that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.''* Paul 
not only gave the precept, but furnished in his life an 
admirable instance of Christian firmness. Address- 
ing the Ephesian elders at Miletus, he said — "And 

* 1 Cor. XV : 5-8. 



INCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 139 

now, behold, 1 go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem, 
not knowing the things that shall befall me there : 
save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, 
saying that bonds and afflictions abide me." Ah, my 
brethren, imposing processions, magnificent cathedrals, 
crowded and delighted auditories, and costly donations 
did not await this devoted servant of Christ, as he 
journeyed from city to city, in liis mission of love, 
but " bonds and afflictions" — the fury of mobs, cruel 
scourgings, imprisonments, the desertion of friends, 
and a bloody martyrdom ; and these evils were dis- 
tinctly revealed to the noble sufferer by the infallible 
Spirit of G-od. A mind less firm and resolute than 
his would have been appalled, discouraged and turned 
aside by such terrors; but they served merely to 
stimulate the zeal, confirm the purpose, and ennoble 
the character of this Christian hero. " But none of 
these things move me," said he, '^ neither count I my 
life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course 
with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of 
the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of 
God."* My brethren, obey the apostolic exhortation 
imitate the apostolic example, if you would be use- 
ful, respectable, or secure your own salvation. 

I close with a few remarks to my dear brethren 
concerning Inconstant Christians, We have them 
among us. Let us guard against the paralyzing influ- 
ence of their example. Let us learn from their infir- 

* Acts xs ; 22, 24. 



140 INCONSTANT CHRISTIANS. 

mity, and the inconsistencies into which it hurries thenij 
to prize more highly, and cultivate more assiduously 
Christian firmness, carefully guarding against the ex- 
treme to which it tends — ohstinacy. Let us watch 
over these imperfect brethren more carefully, deal with 
them more faithfully, pray for them more fervently, 
and set before them examples more worthy of their 
imitation. "Now the God of peace that brought 
again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great shep- 
herd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlast- 
ing Covenant, make you perfect in every good work to 
do his will, working in you that which is well pleasing 
in his sight, through Jesus Christ : to whom be glory 
forever and ever. Amen."'^ 

* Heb. xiii : 20-21. 



LECTURE IX. 

FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 

Fashion is not in itself an evil. Every person must 
follow some fashion in dress, equipage, and manners. 
It may be plain or gaudly, cheap or costly, chaste or 
immodest, in good or bad taste ; but of necessity he 
adopts some fashion or form. The ascetic, who bit- 
terly declaims against fashion as a crying evil, has a 
fashion of his own, formed according to his own taste 
and judgment ; and to this fashion he may cleave with 
more unyielding tenacity than does the veriest devo- 
tee to the latest patterns from the emporium of taste. 
Fashion is a universal sovereign ; and all do her more 
or less reverence. I once knew a Christian minister 
— a good man, of narrow views, and of an ascetic 
turn of mind — the burden of whose ministry was the 
baneful effe<5ts of fashion. He sternly resolved to free 
himself from all guilt and suspicion of worshipping 
the goddess, in order to enforce his declamation against 
the deadly evil. In contempt of her authority, he 
refused to wear buttons on his coat ; and yet, in sub- 
mission to it, he wore a tail to his coat — an equally 
useless appendage. His conscience forbade his wear- 
ing a cravat in summer ; and yet he had no scruples 



142 FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 

about wearing a high-crowned hat — one of the most 
arbitrary products of taste. In short, warring 
against Fashion from no well-defined principle, he fell 
into glaring inconsistencies, and received or rejected 
her mandates as caprice might dictate. Let fashions 
be modest, simple, in good taste, and in conformity 
with our means and station, and we need not fear to 
follow them. Some fashions are extravagant, im- 
modest, or in corrupt taste. These Christians should 
carefully avoid. Gaudy, superfluous, and unchaste 
attire do not become the followers of Christ. Their 
apparel, neat, modest, and seemly, should symbolize 
the meekness and quietness which dwell within. But 
even good and becoming fashions may be followed 
with an interest and devotion incompatible with seri- 
ous and consistent piety. She that thinks more of 
adorning the outward than the inward nature, more 
of dress than of godliness, more of fashion than of 
duty, ^' is dead while she liveth." To conform to ex- 
isting fashions, so far as convenience, respectability, 
and usefulness may demand, is the part of wisdom : 
to follow them at the sacrifice of health, interest, and 
duty, is the part of folly. Some professing Christians 
— I will not say many, though I probably might, 
without indulging a censorious spirit— are devotees 
of Fashion. Their dress, furniture, equipage, enter- 
tainments, and such things, engross their affections, 
thoughts, and conversation, and exhaust their pecu- 
niary resources. They are far more concerned, judg- 
ing from their spirit and conduct, that their garments 



FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 143 

should be of the most approved fashion, and that their 
pleasure parties should be conducted according to the 
most refined etiquette, than that their children should 
be converted to Christ, or their «©wn souls should 
grow in grace. The memoir of Sister Worldly^ which 
I now propose to sketch, may stand, with some addi- 
tions and subtractions, as a truthful picture of every 
individual in this category. 

Sister Worldly was born in affluence, and brought 
up in ease and indulgence. Her mother, Mrs. Gay^ 
was a church member of very volatile spirit, seeming- 
ly of sincere piety, but greatly wanting in Scriptural 
knowledge, and a sound judgment. Her only daugh- 
ter was idolized and petted; and great pains were 
taken to instruct her in the ornamental, and very little 
in the solid branches of education ; and her moral 
training was almost entirely neglected. Soon after 
Miss Gay quitted the Seminary, a very extensive 
and powerful revival occurred in her father's neighbor- 
hood. Most of her young companions were convert- 
ed, and became joyful members of the church. Miss 
Gay^ after a severe and protracted conflict, professed, 
among the last fruits of the revival, to find peace in 
believing. It was a long while before she could gain 
her consent to be baptized. She had been brought 
up among Baptists, was convinced of the truth of their 
peculiar views, and frankly admitted her obligation 
to unite with the church ; but this denomination in 
the place where she dwelt was mostly composed of the 
poor and unrefined, and her associates, owing to her 



144 FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 

wealth and accomplishments, were in another eirclcc 
Long she hesitated between following her convictions 
into the Baptist church, or her inclination into a 
church of anotheis denomination, where she found 
more taste, fashion, and display. Through the influence 
of the faithful pastor of the Baptist church, the strug- 
gle was finally closed by her public baptism, and ad- 
mission into church fellowship. Miss Gay might 
have been eminently useful. Her wealth, sprightli- 
ness, and personal charms made her the attractive cen- 
tre of a wide circle ; and had she only been imbued 
with a becoming zeal for truth and holiness, many 
might have been blessed by her influence ; but she 
did not promise much usefulness. She took no part 
in Sunday-school instruction — rarely attended the 
prayer meetings — and was frequently absent from the 
Lord's-day worship. 

It was not long before Mr. Worldly became a suit- 
or for the hand and heart of Miss Gay. He was 
wealthy, respectable, and genteel, but irreligious, fond 
of pleasure, and rather inclined to dissipation. Miss 
Gay^s pious and judicious friends earnestly dissuaded 
her from encouraging his attentions : but Mrs. Gay 
approved the match, and the daughter followed, on 
this occasion, her mother's advice. The efiects of this 
unwise union soon began to appear. Mrs. Worldly 
was rarely seen at church — when there, she invariably 
arrived late — and evidently felt very little interest in 
the services. She paid the closest and most constant 
attention to her style of living. Her raiment was of 



FASHIONABLE CIUIISTIANS. 145 

the most costly material, the most tasteful patterns, 
and made according to the newest and most approved 
fashions. Her spacious house was filled with furniture 
of the latest and most expensive style. On her cen- 
tre table were the last novel, the splendidly embellish- 
ed monthly, and quite a load of annuals, and works 
of light literature ; but there were lacking Pilgrim's 
Progress, the Call to the Unconverted, and the Family 
Bible. Soon Sister Worldly began to attend parties, 
balls, theatrical exhibitions, and such amusements ; 
not that she took delight in these things, as she 
stated to her pastor, but merely to please her hus- 
band — though rumor whispered that in other things 
she was not remarkable for submission to his will. 

She aspired to be the most fashionable lady in her 
neighborhood, and the pre-eminence was generally ac- 
corded to her. 

Sometimes Sister Worldly experienced quite an im- 
pulse of religious zeal. Ordinarily when Associations 
or Conventions were held in the place where she 
lived, she could furnish no accommodation for Christ's 
ministers — her house was filled with particular friends, 
or she was short of servants, or Mr. Worldly did not 
like to entertain company ; but when Dr. Noble vis- 
ited the place, and many were prepared to accommo- 
date him, she insisted on taking him to her house, en- 
tertained him with queenly hospitality, carried him to 
church in her carriage, and almost engrossed his so- 
ciety. The Doctor left her house with the impressiou 
that she was a Christian of rare zeal and efficiency. 



146 FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 

We are naturally led to inquire after the religious 
influence of Sister Worldly in her family. Her hus- 
band became an infidel and inebriate, and a shame 
and grief to his family. Her sons, noble-looking men, 
imbibed their father's principles, followed his example, 
and were never seen in the house of God. Her daugh- 
ters sometimes attended church ; but they were the 
most frivolous, disorderly, and hardened of all the 
young persons in the congregation ; and their pastor 
despaired of their conversion to Christ. On one oc- 
casion Sister Worldly designed giving a very large 
party. There was a serious difficulty in her way — 
her oldest son, fast becoming a sot, she knew would 
get intoxicated, and probably disgrace himself and the 
family at the entertainment. A discreet friend of 
her's suggested the propriety of her having a strictly 
temperance party — a measure to which her husband, 
recently alarmed by symptoms of apoplexy, would 
readily have consented. But said Sister Worldly — 
*^ What would people think of me if I should have a 
party without wine ? They would say, I am covetous 
and mean. No, no ! I can't consent to have my fam- 
ily disgraced by a party without wines — the very best 
that can be procured." The party was given — the 
spacious mansion of the Worldly family was crowded 
with merry guests — the tables groaned with every 
luxury, and the most tempting wines — the festivity 
was rapturous and long continued ; but young World- 
ly was soon inebriated, made himself ridiculous, 
marred the pleasures of the entertainment, was re- 



FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 147 

moved by force from the company, seized with deli- 
rium tremens^ and for several days his life was in 
great danger. 

Many envied Mrs. Worldly^ thinking that amid so 
much wealth and splendor, and in such an incessant 
round of visitings, parties, and amusements, she must 
be happy. Had they known, as I knew, how little 
respect she commanded in her family, how she was 
grieved and mortified by the dissipations of her hus- 
band and sons, how she was tried by the waywardness 
of her daughters, and how heartless and insipid were 
all her fashionable amusements, they would have 
pitied her heartily. She was an unhappy woman. 
She had not piety enough to sustain and comfort her ; 
and she knew from experience that a fashionable life 
was one of " vanity and vexation of spirit." 

There were some redeeming traits in .the character 
of Sister Worldly. She was kind to the poor, had a 
sympathizing heart, and to her friends she was ex- 
tremely generous. At times she felt and deplored 
her lack of piety, resolved to reform her life, and 
made ineffectual efforts to change its current. Her 
contributions to the cause of piety were uniformly 
meagre and grudgingly made ; but for other objects 
she could sometimes give with surprising liberality. 
When the church ventured on the questionable method 
of obtaining money by a fair, she exerted herself to 
forward the scheme, excelling all the sisters in the 
costliness and beauty of the articles which she offered 
for sale, and the amount received at her counter. 



148 FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 

Several years have passed since Sister Worldly 
closed her career of fashion and pleasure in the grave. 
The circumstances of her departure were melancholy, 
but I must not omit them. Mr. Worldly had just 
completed a large, beautiful, and most convenient 
residence. No expense was spared to make it the 
first building in the city. It was almost a terrestrial 
paradise. The garden was extensive, tastefully laid 
out, and supplied, at great cost, with rare shrubbery 
and delicious fruits. The rooms of the noble mansion 
were adorned with a profusion of furniture, of the 
newest style, and most expensive quality. Sister 
Worldly^ s heart was much set on her new home. She 
looked forward to her entrance into it as the com- 
mencement of a new life. But, alas ! how sadly are 
human hopes sometimes blighted. Her health was 
delicate and declining when she entered her loved 
palace. The disease under which she labored was in- 
sidious in its nature and slow in its progress. Her 
physician, in whose judgment she placed great reli- 
ance, flattered her with the hope of her speedy resto- 
ration to health ; and she excluded from her sick room 
the few faithful friends who would have disclosed to 
her the peril of her situation. Her family were hardly 
aware of her real condition, and unwilling to disclose to 
her their fears. The neighbors all knew that Mrs. 
Worldly must soon die, while as yet the family had little 
alarm, and she was cheerful, and fondly talking of health, 
parties, and visitings. The disease, meanwhile, was ma- 
king steady and fatal progress. Two or three days before 



FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 149 

her death, the conviction that her end was nigh flash- 
ed on her mind. Neither the flatteries of her physi- 
cian, nor her own vain hopes, could longer deceive 
her. She was perfectly overwhelmed at an event 
which she so little expected, and for which she was 
so little prepared. To give up her new house and its 
furniture, and to take up her dwelling in the dark and 
solitary grave, was to her a dreary and appalling pros- 
pect. She could not live, nor could she consent to 
die. She was not without hope for the future, but 
consternation, and not hope, was the prevailing feel- 
ing of her mind. She died without light, without 
peace, with feeble hope, and was carried forth from 
her splendid mansion to the narrow and cheerless 
house appointed for all the living : and her end fur- 
nishes an impressive commentary on the vanity, folly, 
and wretchedness of a fashionable life. I dare not 
say that her soul was lost — I would trust that, through 
infinite riches of grace, it was saved : but who would 
willingly. die such a death ? and how many fashionable 
Christians are preparing themselves for just such an 
end? 

We close, my hearers, with a few practical remarks 
on this subject. 

1. Let us adopt Scriptural views on the theme 
under consideration. On this, as on other subjects, 
men are prone to extremes — some to the ascetic, and 
some to the licentious extreme. I have already inti- 
mated that the evil lies, not in conforming to existing 
fashions as such ; but in following immodest or ex- 



150 FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS 

travagant fashions, or becoming fashions with an un- 
due devotion. The apostle enjoins on Christ's disci- 
ples non-conformity to this world : but the prohibition 
must be understood with proper limitation. The 
apostle did not design to teach that if the world wear 
raiment of a certain texture, color, and pattern, that 
Christians for that reason should avoid its use ; but 
merely that they should abstain from concord with 
the world in whatever is sinful. The passage itself 
does not define the line of separation between the 
church and the world, but leaves the disciples to dis- 
cover that line in the light of other portions of the 
Scriptures. Another apostle enjoins on wives that 

their adorning should not be outward, ^plaiting the 

hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of ap- 
parel, but the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit. 
But Peter did not inhibit all attention to personal 
neatness and ornament — all use of gold and apparel 
in adorning the body — but required that the chief at- 
tention should be bestowed on the adornment of the 
heart. The outward man may be adorned with neatness, 
good taste, and elegance ; but the cultivation and im- 
provement of the heart is the chief business of life. 
The devotee of fashion neglects the adornment of the 
heart; and the ascetic declaimer against fashion 
attaches, as do the objects of his censure, an un- 
due importance to the vestments of the outward 
man. 

2. We should consider how little is to be gained by 
devotion to Fashion. She is as very a despot as ever 



FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 151 

occupied a Turkish throne. Her mandates are fre- 
quently capricious, senseless, in violation of good 
taste, extravagant, burdensome, cruel, and even mur- 
derous. Her slaves are not unfrequently severely 
taxed, exhausted by fatigue, exposed to heat and cold, 
and subjected to the most heartless drudgery. And 
what, permit me to inquire, is gained by this painful 
vassalage ? Respectability is the phantom sought by 
these voluntary slaves. They hope, by attention to 
fashion, to be admired for their taste, praised for 
their accomplishments, and elevated to the highest 
circle of society. But I put it to the candid judg- 
ment of my hearers, whether a lady is exalted one 
inch in the estimation of the discerning and the virtu- 
ous, because she is fashionable ? Nay, does not the 
unsophisticated heart instinctively recoil from render- 
ing homage to the woman of gaiety, fashion, and plea- 
sure ? Does not the woman concerned mainly for the 
cultivation of the intellect and heart, of neat and plain 
attire, and of unaffected and dignified manners, carry 
away the palm from her, even in the estimation of 
those whose smile she courts ? A. fashionable Chris- 
tian I What pastor desires to have such a member 
in his church? Who would seek her prayers in a 
time of distress ? Who would be willing to occupy 
her place in a dying hour ? ^^ She that liveth in plea- 
sure is dead while she liveth." 

My dear friends, let us resolve that we will more 
diligently follow the fashions set for us by our divine 
Master. He has given us no pattern for the form of 



162 FASHIONABLE CHRISTIANS. 

our garments, but a most beautiful pattern for the 
guidance of our lives— a pattern in which all the ami- 
able and lovely are blended with all the noble and 
commanding traits of human character ; and has, 
with the kindness of a father, and the authority of a 
sovereign, said to us — ^^ Follow me." 



LECTURE X. 

FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 

Frivolity is opposed to gravity — sobriety. Chris- 
tians should be grave. It is according to " sound 
doctrine that the aged men be sober," and " grave," 
as well as *^ temperate, sound in faith, in charity, in 
patience."* But the obligation to be grave and sober 
is not peculiar to old men. " Young men," writes 
Paul to Titus, '-'- likewise, exhort to be sober-minded." 
This evangelist was enjoined, not merely to exhort 
young men to sober-mindedness, but to exemplify in 
his own conduct the excellence of the precept. ^' In 
all things," continued the apostle, " showing thyself 
a pattern of good works : in doctrine showing," among 
other important qualities, "gravity."! No disposi- 
tion, certainly, can be more becoming men redeemed 
from sin and death than gravity. When they con- 
sider from what guilt and danger they have been res- 
cued — by how great a sacrifice their deliverance was 
effected — how weighty and solemn are their responsi- 
bilities to Christ — how numerous, artful and malig- 
nant are their enemies — how sin and misery overspread 

* Tit. 11 : 3. t Tit. 11 : 6-7 



154 FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 

the world — and how brief and uncertain is the period 
of their earthly sojourn — can they be otherwise than 
grave ? 

But Christians are required to be grave, not morose, 
Moroseness is selfish, bitter, sullen, implacable — gra- 
vity is considerate, gentle, kind, heavenly. Jesus was 
grave, not morose — serious, not severe ; and his dis- 
ciples are bound to imbibe his spirit. 

Christians should be grave, not gloomy. G-ravity 
is compatible with cheerfulness, joy and sociability — 
gloominess unfits the mind alike , for intercourse with 
men, and with God — for the pleasures of society, and 
the duties of religion. Jesus was grave, not gloomy 
— the warmth of his heart, the brightness of his coun- 
tenance, and the kindness of his words, made him a 
welcome guest in every social circle where sin was not 
tolerated. "Whether we contemplate him at the mar- 
riage feast in Cana of G-alilee, in the pious family of 
Martha in Bethany, or in his frequent interviews with 
his chosen disciples, we cannot but be impressed with 
the cheerfulness, sociality, and gentleness of his man- 
ners. He came ^^ eating and drinking" like other 
men. He was in the truest, noblest sense, " a friend 
of publicans and sinners."* And his disciples are 
under the strongest obligation to imitate the lovely, 
winning example of their Master. 

Frivolity makes a mind light, inconsiderate, and 
unimpressed with divine things. It is generally, but 

* Mat. xi : 19. 



FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 155 

not exclusively the sin of youth. It is sometimes, 
though most unbecomingly, associated with gray hairs 
and infirmities. "What measure of levity is compati- 
ble with sincere piety, it is difficult to say ; but, cer- 
tainly, its habitual, and unrestrained indulgence is not. 
Piety is a serious thing. It has its hopes, its conso- 
lations, and its joys ; but it has also its mortifications, 
its sorrows, and its conflicts. Though not recorded 
in so many words, it is the plain teaching of revela- 
tion, that no trifler shall enter into the kingdom of 
heaven. " From the days of John the Baptist until 
now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the 
violent take it by force."* It must be taken by 
storm ; or, to speak without a figure, the blessings of 
true religion are enjoyed only by those who earnestly 
desire, and vigorously seek them. 

Frivolous Christians are, I am sorry to say, a very 
numerous class. Frivolity is an evil confined to no age, 
nor sex, nor rank. It is found in every Christian church. 
The most considerate and dignified disciples of Jesus 
are liable to be surprised, or allured, into its indul- 
gence. It invades the pulpit ; and difi'uses thence a 
most mischievous influence. 

I propose to depict some of the Evils of Frivolity 
as they are seen in the life of Elder Lightman. 

He was naturally of a warm, excitable, and lively 
temperament. His disposition was kind but volatile. 
If I may be allowed to speak phrenologically, his 

* Mat. xi ; 12. 



156 FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 

organ of self-esteem was largel}?- developed. Eminently 
social in his spirit, he was fond of conversation, or 
rather of talking, and usually made himself — his at- 
tainments, exploits or purposes — the theme of his re- 
marks. He was singularly impulsive, rarely taking 
time to weigh his words, or consider the consequences 
of his acts. 

The religious experience of Mr. Lightman was 
somewhat remarkable. His feelings were deep, but 
variable. His tears were often succeeded by levity ; 
and his levity as often by tears still more bitter. One 
fact in his experience will best illustrate his character. 
While he was apparently under deep conviction of sin, 
he attended a meeting in which there was a solemn and 
pervasive religious influence. At this meeting, some- 
thing ludicrous, or which appeared to him to be so, 
occurred. Instantly all his serious thoughts and im- 
pressions were gone, and he was seized with an un- 
controllable fit of laughter. To prevent the exposure 
of his levity he withdrew from the congregation, and 
gave full indulgence to his mirth. Soon, however, the 
tide of his feelings changed. His laughter was fol- 
lowed by a sense of guilt, alarm, tears, and lamenta- 
tions ; but in the midst of these painful exercises, the 
ludicrous scene presented itself again vividly to his 
mind, upset his gravity, and threw him into convulsive 
laughter. The poor man returned from, a religious 
meeting, which he had attended, earnestly desiring to 
be benefitted, with distressing fears that he had com- 
mitted the unpardonable sin. 



FPaVOLOUS CHPaSTIANS. 157 

Strong confidence in Christ, a bright hope of heav- 
en, and an overflowing joy, signalized the conversion 
of Lightman, He was promptly baptized, and uni- 
ted with a church of Christ. Possessing a brilliant 
intellect, a good education, and a ready and graceful 
elocution, he was easily persuaded to enter the Chris- 
tian ministry. High hopes were entertained of his 
usefulness. His manners were popular, his preaching 
was attractive, and his zeal and energy were marked. 
Soon, however, his levity began to exert a baleful in- 
fluence. 

This infirmity showed itself in an excessive atten- 
tion to his personal appearance. He was handsome, 
vain of his beauty, and sought to exhibit it to advan- 
tage. A neat attire, suited to age and position, be- 
comes a Christian minister ; but a fondness for dress 
is utterly unworthy of him. The pulpit occupied by 
Elder Lightman stood in a position unfavorable to 
the display of his personal charms. He therefore pro- 
posed and succeeded in efi'ecting such changes in it, 
the light that shone on it, and the drapery surround- 
ing it, as were best adapted to the exhibition of his 
noble form, fair complexion, and tasteful dress. There 
stands the pulpit, an enduring monument of the pas- 
tor's frivolity and self-complacency, Alas ! that a 
minister of Christ, called to watch for souls as one 
that must give account, should be more concerned to 
display his own beauty than the glory of Christ— should 
convert the pulpit, Heaven's appointed means of hu- 
man salvation, into a stage, on which to exhibit, with 
scenic effect, his personal charms ! 



158 FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 

The conversation of Elder Lightman was eminently 
frivolous. In every society, under the most solemn 
circumstances, in week days and on Lord's days, his 
levity was apparent. No opportunity of jesting was 
permitted to pass unused, and he would sooner lose a 
friend than spoil a pun. No subject was too impor- 
tant or grave to be converted by him into a theme for 
merriment. Had he been as anxious to instruct and 
profit as he was to amuse his associates, he would 
have been a most valuable companion. Those who 
observed his usual solemnity and fervency in the pul- 
pit, and his thoughtless levity out of it, frequently re- 
marked of him — what has often been remarked of 
others — " When he is in the pulpit, he preaches so 
well that he should never come out of it ; and when 
he is out of it, his conversation is so frivolous that he 
should never go into it." 

A fact may best show the evil influence of his lev- 
ity. He attended a meeting where many ministers, 
from various parts of the country, were present, 
among whom were some distinguished for their learn- 
ing, eloquence, and piety. He was the star of the 
occasion. In the pulpit, the solemnity of his counte- 
nance, the fervor of his manner, and his graceful elocu- 
tion, added to the intrinsic excellence of his discourses, 
made him the centre of interest and attraction. The 
venerableness of age, the sayings of wisdom, and the 
dawning of genius, were all forgotten in the admira- 
tion excited by the glowing eloquence, and impassioned 
appeals of Elder Lightman^ then in his early prime. 



FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 159 

When the meeting closed his praises were on almost 
every lip. It happened that sister Grave^ a lady em- 
inent for piety, discretion, and dignity, shared the 
hospitality of the family in which he was quartered. 
I said to her, after the meeting had ended, '^ How did 
you like brother Lightman's preaching ?" " I wish 
never to hear him again," was her prompt and pointed 
reply." ^' Why ?" I enquired, with surprise. ^' His 
conversation is so light and trifling that I can have 
no confidence in his piety." I was sorry to hear the 
remark. The judgment of the excellent sister was se- 
vere. She did not make due allowance for the natu- 
ral temperament of the man, the exhilarating circum- 
stances in which he was placed, and the strong temp- 
tations which he was under to please and amuse, by 
his wit and vivacity, those whom he had astonished 
and dazzled by his sermons. But still, knowing, as I 
did, the sound judgment, the high sense of propriety, 
the unaffected piety, and the wide and deserved influ- 
ence of sister Grave^ I would not have been willing 
that she should entertain such an opinion of me for all 
the popularity which Elder Lightman won from the 
vast and delighted crowd on that occasion. 

It would not have been so bad if his levity had been 
confined to his social intercourse. Unfortunately, the 
frivolity of his temper and his fondness for the ludi- 
crous, sometimes broke through the restraints imposed 
by the sacredness of the pulpit. He often sought ta 
gain a smile when he should have aimed to win a souL 
Usually, indeed, he was solemn, even tender and pa- 



160 FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 

thetic, in the sacred desk; but occasionally the caus- 
ticity, oddity, or ludicrousness of his remarks would 
move his congregation to an involuntary smile, or ill- 
suppressed laughter. On one occasion the effect of 
his untimely mirth was most painful and disrepu- 
table. For the elucidation of some point, he related 
an amusing story. Its effect was irresistible. Through' 
out the dense congregation there was a half-concealed 
titter. This pervasive mirth re-acted on the preach- 
er, and he burst into loud and unrestrained laughter. 
The assembly, freed from all restraints by the unseem- 
ly example of the preacher, indulged -in merriment) 
the more hearty and vociferous, from their previous 
efforts to suppress it. After the general outburst of 
amusement, order and gravity were restored. The 
preacher apologized for his levity, resumed the thread 
of his discourse, and was proceeding with his usual 
pathos, when the unfortunate story which had caused 
the diversion came again vividly into his mind. He 
suddenly stopped, struggled a moment with the threat- 
ening eruption, and broke forth again into laughter. 
The congregation, catching the sympathy, laughed in 
unison with him. All attempts to re-commence the 
religious services were vain. The feelings of the preach- 
er and of the people were utterly inharmonious with 
the place, the occasion, and the appropriate services. 
The meeting closed in a farce. It was, indeed, in one, 
but not in every aspect a farce. It was a melancholy 
scene. Angels might have wept over it. The Lord's 
day was desecrated, the house of worship was dishon- 



FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 461 

pred, .the pulpit was prostituted, the people were 
taught to make a mock at sacred things, the preacher 
of the gospel was disgraced, God was offended, and 
infidelity was invited to sneer and triumph. I do not 
envy Lightman the feelings with which he returned 
to his home to reflect on his levity, folly, and merited 
reproach. In other places he retained his reputation 
and influence ; hut he could never again appear at the 
scene of his impious levity without a feeling of shame, 
and exciting a vivid recollection of his folly. 

I need not farther pursue the life of Elder Light- 
man. He is, I trust, a good mati. He possesses 
some nohle qualities. But for his besetting sin, he 
might be one of the most- successful of Christian min- 
isters. As it is, his usefulness is equivocal. Some 
good he seems to d?f in winning souls to Christ, and 
in edifying the saints ; but such large subtractions 
must be made for the reproach which he brings on re- 
ligion, and the pain which he inflicts on its intelligent 
friends, that it is not easy to say on which side the 
balance is found. Many admire and love him, and 
grieve that one so eminently fitted for usefulness 
should, by his frivolity, so sadly mar it. 

I will conclude this Lecture with a few remarks to 
that class of Christians so strikingly represented by 
Elder Lightman, 

Frivolity is an evil not easily corrected. The line 
of demarcation between Christian cheerfulness and 
sinful levity is not in all cases easily drawn. There 
may be — there often is — a gradual and unconscious 



162 FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 

gliding from right to wrong. This evil, too, may 
have its origin in the best impulses of our nature — a 
social disposition, and a desire to please; and no 
habit grows more imperceptibly and more vigorously 
than that of frivolity. Other sins are checked ; this 
is encouraged by society. Other sins may bring us 
into reproach ; this, though it may be a spot on our 
religious character, and blight our religious influence, 
will make us acceptable and valued companions in 
many circles of society, from which consistent piety is 
excluded, or in which it is barely tolerated. Con- 
science, so potent in the correction of other evils, has 
but little power in curing this. It may be so plausi- 
bly justified, or, at least, exoused and palliated, that 
her remonstrances are silenced, or reduced to faint 
and unheeded whispers. And yelf frivolity is an evil, 
and a serious one, for the correction of which those 
Christians who have indulged in it should make con- 
stant and earnest efi'orts. That I may aid you, my 
brethren, in curing this disease, sufi'er a few words of 
exhortation. 

1. GonsideY its mischievous effects. If you possess 
any piety, you desire to be useful, and the fervency 
of this desire agrees with the depth of your piety. If 
your levity should not utterly prevent, it will certainly 
diminish your Christian influence and usefulness. Your 
companions may give you full credit for your kindness, 
sociability, and pleasantry ; but if they do not despise^ 
they will lightly esteem your religious character. 
They will think less of religion by the exemplification 



FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 163 

of it furnislied in your spirit and manners. If they 
desire religions instruction, they will not seek it at 
your lips ; if, in times of distress and danger, they 
wish prayer to be offered to God on their behalf, they 
will not apply to you as intercessors. Tour example 
may prove a terrible curse to those whom you most 
tenderly love. Tour companions— your children — 
may be led by your levity and folly to despise the 
gospel, and the Redeemer whom it reveals, and to lose 
their souls. 

2. Think, dear brethren, hovj incongruous is your 
frivolity with your solemn responsibilities. Whether 
we consider the price at which you have been redeem- 
ed — the precious blood of Christ ; the end for which 
you are kept in the world — to glorify God in your 
bodies and spirits, which are his ; or the enemies with 
which you have to maintain a ceaseless conflict ; it is 
most seemly that you should " pass the time of your 
sojourning here," not in levity, but " in fear."^ Tou 
are called to watchfulness, the mortification of your 
lusts, a life of earnest piety ; in fine, to " work out 
your own salvation with fear and trembling." Need 
I tell you how incompatible these duties are with a 
light and trifling spirit ? Let the warrior sport in 
the battle-field, covered with carnage and blood — let 
the mariner sport in the threatening tempest — let the 
surgeon sport in the hospital, amid the sick and dy- 
ing ; but you, my brethren, should be " serious in a 
serious cause." Tou have to do with solemn matters. 

* 1 Pet. i; 17. 



164 FRIVOLOUS CHRISTIANS. 

Sin, death, and hell are serious things. You may be 
frivolous, but angels, Christ, and God are serious. 
You will not always laugh. Death is a solemn event. 
It is no light thing for a trifler to die. If the emi- 
nent Grotius, when he was about to die, declared, be- 
cause he had devoted himself to secular learning 
rather than the study of the Bible, that he had spent 
his life in laborious trifling, in what terms of self-re- 
proach and bitter lamentation, will you express the 
folly and guilt of lives wasted in thoughtless frivolity ? 
In conclusion, permit me, brethren, to urge you, if 
your consciences accuse you of this sin, to make in- 
stant, determined, earnest efforts, depending on divine 
aid, to overcome it. The disease is hard to cure, 
but not incurable. It maybe that^ to exorcise the 
demon, prayer, fasting, watchfulness, and long-contin- 
ued struggling may be necessary. But duty, useful- 
ness, enjoyment, safety, and the glory of Christ de- 
mand the effort and the sacrifices. A peaceful death, 
a memory blessed, and a glorious reward in heaven, 
beckon you to fight till you have gained the victory. 



LECTURE XL 

SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 

By Sensitive Christians I do not mean such as 
are remarkable for the liveliness of their religious feel- 
ings. This is a choice class of Christians. I once 
had the pleasure of numbering brother Lively among 
my constant hearers. He always took his seat near 
the pulpit, and listened to the Word preached with 
intense interest, and a heart responsive to all its 
claims. His absorbed attention, the variations in his 
countenance, and his flowing tears, evinced the warmth 
of his feelings. Nor did his emotions die away with 
the sound of the preacher's voice, but subsequently 
showed themselves in the spirituality of his conversa- 
tion, the fervor of his devotions, and .the activity of 
his efforts in the cause of Christ, If on the face of 
the earth there was a church composed of such mem- 
bers as brother Lively^ I should delight to be their 
pastor. Widely different, however, are such Chris- 
tians from the class of which I am going to speak. I 
will make no apology for delineating, this evening, the 
character of brother Touchy^ with whom, if you have 
no personal acquaintance, you may deem yourselves 
fortunate. He is rather a distinguished member of 
the class of Sensitive Christians. 



166 SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 

This disciple has some excellent qualities. He is 
scrupulous^ almost to a fault. On all questions of 
duty, he is, from temperament, an ultraist. Some 
years ago the propriety of making abstinence from the 
use of intoxicatiDg drinks a condition of church mem- 
bership, was discussed in the church to which he be- 
longed. Of course, he was in favor of the new test of 
fellowship. In debating the question, a brother said 
to him, ^' The principles which you advocate would 
lead to the exclusion of church-members for using 
coffee, tea, or tobacco.'' " Yes," replied brother 
Touchy y " and I am in favor of carrying out the prin- 
ciple." And so, no doubt, he was, sincerely and hon- 
estly. I should never expect this brother to do a 
mean thing. He may act rashly or foolishly ; but he 
has no trickery or unfairness. He would be a valua- 
ble member of the church were it not for his charac- 
teristic infirmity. This renders him good for no- 
thing. Brother Toiichyh great fault is his sus- 
ceptibility of being wounded — his readiness to take 
offence. The most harmless action or word, or 
even look, may fill him with grief, or kindle his re- 
sentment. A thousand may be addressed, but he is 
sure your remarks are intended for him. You may 
speak of a class, or of an abstract quality, but he con- 
siders your words offensively personal. You may 
explain your meaning, but your explanation is almost 
certain to be, in his estimation, worse than the origi- 
nal offence. You may keep silent, but he interprets 
your silence as a want of respect to himself. You 



SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 167 

may compliment him, and, although he is fond of com- 
pliments, two to one but he will suspect you of a de- 
sign to flatter him, and be sincerely grieved. Ton 
may speak to him in jest, but, understanding you se- 
riously, he is sorely hurt ; or you may speak to him 
seriously, and suspecting you of jesting, he will be 
equally wounded. With almost every member of the 
church, at one time or another, he has been displeased. 
He was greatly distressed and offended because sister 
Good said that his son John, a petted, spoiled, and 
rude boy, behaved badly in church — a fact known to 
all the congregation. On one occasion Deacon Faith- 
ful made some remarks about church-members who 
were delinquent in the payment of their church sub- 
scriptions — remarks kind, pertinent, and weighty, as 
his remarks always were. It happened that brother 
Touchy belonged at the time, though it was an un- 
usual thing, to this class ; and he was dreadfully hurt 
by the Deacon's remarks ; and long and affectionately 
did the Deacon labor before he could heal the wound. 
Brother Touchy was peculiarly liable to be grieved 
with his pastor. He had been under the charge of 
several pastors, before I took the oversight of the 
church. They were excellent men, of very different 
characters and gifts, but all eminently useful. Bro- 
ther Touchy was grieved and offended with them all. 
I was apprized of his character^ and resolved, if possi- 
ble, to avoid hurting his feelings ; but it was not pos- 
sible. In a short time, I took occasion to warn my 
hearers against the danger of attendicg dram shops. 



168 SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 

It unfortunately happened that this brother had re- 
cently visited one on business, and supposing that I 
designed to reprove him for his conduct, he was 
greatly distressed. When I heard of this trouble, I 
went to him, and by assuring him that I had not 
heard of his visit to the dram shop, and did not even 
see him in the congregation at the time of the offen- 
sive remarks, I succeeded in quieting his mind. But 
it did not avail much ; for in a little while he was 
again offended at some equally harmless remark, and 
during the whole period of my ministry in the church 
has been receiving wounds which I have no little 
trouble in healing. Fortunately for brother Touchy 
these wounds leave no scars, else he would be one of 
the most frightful of living beings. 

It must in fairness be said that brother Touchy is 
not malicious. He is " soon angry," but his anger soon 
abates. His infirmity is far more injurious to him- 
self than to any one else. Now that his character is 
well known, nobody is surprised to hear that he is of- 
fended, and, in truth, nobody has any great concern 
about it. All have come to view it as one of those in- 
evitable occurrences which must be borne with patience 
and resignation. 

I have carefully inquired for the cause of brother 
Touchy''s sensitiveness. Whether the man was a 
spoiled child, I do not know ; but he acts much as if 
it were so. Perhaps he is of an unfortunate nervous 
temperament, which renders him peevish and tender. 
On one point I am perfectly certain — pride has much 



SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 169 

to do with his sensibility. He sometimes makes me 
his confident, and pours his grievances into my ears. 
I never fail to notice in the account which he gives of 
his supposed insults and injuries, that he represents 
that due respect has not been paid to his age, office, or 
character. On one occasion he was invited to dine 
with an amiable brother : a large company was pre- 
sent. He was not invited to take a seat at the first 
table, and he became violently offended, and left the 
house. As soon as the mistake was discover- 
ed, the good brother went in pursuit of the 
offended guest, and assured him that he had been sim- 
ply overlooked, and apologized in the most courteous 
manner for the seeming neglect ; but brother Touchy^ 
more than usually resentful, refused, in a most un- 
christian spirit, to receive the apology. His dignity 
had been offended, and could not be easily appeased. 
Brother Touchy was visionary as well as sensitive. 
He formed a favorable opinion of his own abilities, 
and his mind was usually pregnant with wild and im- 
practicable schemes. By some means it came to his 
knowledge that Elder Weigh-well bad a poor opinion 
of his judgment. From that day forward the Elder 
was considered by him as a personal enemy, though 
nothing was farther from the truth. He was greatly 
pained that one vv^hose favorable opinion he would 
have prized, should think so unjustly of him ; and his 
grief found vent in language of self-adulation and 
bold defiance. But enough of brother Touchyh faults. 
I have some important advice to offer to that some- 



170 SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 

what numerous and respectable, but very unfortunate, 
class of Christians to which Mr. Touchy belongs : — 

1 . Be sure you take no offence when none is in- 
tended. In such a world as this, offences must of ne- 
cessity come. So diversified are the tempers, views, 
interests, and pursuits of men, that conflicts and in- 
juries must occur ; and the real offences in this life 
are sufficiently numerous without adding to the list 
imaginary ones. Be careful, then, brethren, not to 
misconstrue innocent words and actions into serious 
insults. You know, or ought to know, your infirmity, 
and should guard against it. If any person offends 
you without designing to do it, the blame is yours, 
and not his ; and every such instance of groundless 
irritation is a reproach both on your judgment and 
your temper; and should these instances increase, 
they will furnish decisive proof of your indiscretion ; 
and, at length, in every contest it will be taken for 
granted that you are wrong and your opponents right. 
When brother Love heard that brother Touchy^s feel- 
ings were hurt by Deacon Faithful, he said, with a 
most significant smile, " No wonder 1" 

2. Be careful that you do not indulge a resentment 
disproportionate to the offence given. The offence 
may have originated in inconsiderateness, or a misap- 
prehension of your conduct, or some occasional im- 
pulse ; and the offender may disapprove and lament 
his conduct. A merited resentment will be justified by 
public sentiment, and is tolerated by Christianity. " Be 
ye angry, and sin not." But a fierce and unreason- 



SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 171 

able resentment will place you in the wrong, and give 
the offender the advantage of you. I well remember 
such a case. Sister Touchy^ who is more excitable, 
and generally more easily pacified than her husband, 
was offended by a member of the church. The of- 
fending sister saw and confessed her fault, and ingen- 
uously asked forgiveness. The offence was slight, 
but confession, instead of extinguishing, roused the 
resentment of sister Touchy to a perfect flame, which 
had well nigh caused her exclusion from the church. 
So, my brethren, you see it is not only important 
that you should be right in the beginning of a contest, 
but that you should continue right to the end. 

3. Be certain when you are offended to go ivitk 
your complaints to the offending brother himself. •^ If 
thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell 
him his fault between thee and him alone." This is 
the divine rule ; and experience has demonstrated its 
wisdom. If you permit any supposed flagrancy of the 
offence, or your imaginary dignity, or the violence of 
your resentment, to prevent you from obeying this 
rule, you make yourselves offenders. The object of 
your displeasure may be innocent, but you are not ; 
you offend against your brethren and against Christ ; 
and if you know your duty, and obstinately refuse to 
do it, you must settle the controversy with Him whose 
authority you set at naught. 

4. Be always ready to forgive those loho have of- 
fended you, on the first sign of their repentance. If 
thy brother '' trespass against thee seven times in a 



172 SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 

day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, say- 
ing, I repent, thou shalt forgive him." You cannot 
judge men's hearts. If an offending brother says, I 
repent, he may be sincere — God knoweth — " charity 
hopeth all things ;" and you are bound to forgive him. 
And if you have the mind which was in Christ Jesus, 
you will forgive him fully and gladly. 

5. Constantly hear in 7nind that God exercises 
greater patience toivards you than you are called to 
exercise towards any man. Our offences against God 
have been causeless, multiplied, and aggravated ; and 
yet he has forgiven them freely and fully, and at the 
first moment of our hearty repentance. And can we 
cherish, in view of God's compassion to us, an implacable 
spirit toward those, who have, in comparison, so slightly 
offended us ? Shall we imitate the example of the 
wicked servant, whose master forgave him ten thou- 
sand talents because he had nothing to pay, and who 
inexorably demanded of his fellow servant the payment 
of fifty pence ? A hard, unforgiving spirit is incompat- 
ible with the existence of piety, and the salvation of 
the soul. " If ye forgive not men their trespasses, 
neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."* 

My brethren, I have a word of advice for you, rela- 
tive to Sensitive Christians, Deal gently with them. 
They are much to be pitied. They are frequently an 
annoyance to their brethren; but their worst enemies 
could hardly desire that they should harass and pun- 

1 * Mat. vi : 15. 



SENSITIVE CHRISTIANS. 173 

ish themselves more than they do. You would not 
handle a man roughly who has no skin on his flesh. 
The Touchy family are more sensitive mentally than 
such a man would be bodily. Act toward them as, 
under a change of circumstances, you would' have them 
to act toward you. Christians of this class are scat- 
tered through all the churches, perhaps, among other 
things, to exercise our patience, gentleness, and long 
suffering — important Christian graces — and also to 
teach us, by comparison, how much those of us who 
have a sound nervous system, and the power of gov- 
erning our tempers, are indebted to the Former of our 
bodies, and the Sanctifier of our spirits. 

Fearing that I have incurred the everlasting dis- 
pleasure of brother Touchy ^ and all his family and 
relatives^ I can and do appeal to the Searcher of 
hearts for the purity of my motives, the disinterested- 
ness of my aims, and the truthfulness of my delinea- 
tions. 



LECTURE XII. 

CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 

My brethren, we are no where forbidden in the 
Scriptures to form candid and just opinions of men's 
conduct and characters, however evil they may be ; 
or, from proper motives, to give utterance to these 
opinions. We are permitted to judge of false proph- 
ets by their fruits.* " Judge not according to appear- 
ance, but judge righteous judgment,"! is a rule of our 
divine Lord. But CensoriotiS7iess is a disposition to 
judge hastily, partially, and harshly, and to give need- 
less expression to the false judgment. This evil is 
distinctly and emphatically condemned by the Spirit 
of inspiration. " Put them in mind," says Paul, '^ to 
speak evil of no man."| " Judge not," says Jesus, 
" that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye 
judge, ye shall be judged ; and with what measure ye 
mete, it shall be measured to you again." || The Grod 
who interdicts murder and blasphemy, with equal 
clearness and authority forbids evil surmising, rash 
judgments, and evil speaking. A censorious disposi- 
tion indicates a bad heart — a heart wholly, or in part, 

* Mat. vii : 16. t John vii ; 24. % Tit. iii : 2. 

11 Mat. vii: 1,2. 



CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 175 

unsanetified — a heart selfish, envious, ambitious, and 
misanthropic. It will generally be found that the 
Censorious are guilty of sins greater than those which 
they denounce ; and sometimes they vent their indig- 
nation on the very sins which they themselves commit, 
"Thou art inexcusable, man, whosoever thou art, 
that judgest ; for wherein thou judgest another, 
thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest dost 
the same things."* 

We have recorded in the Scriptures a remarkable 
and instructive specimen of the fault-finding spirit. f 
John, the harbinger of Christ, was a man of abstemi- 
ous habits : he ^' came neither eating nor drinking." 
The Jews found fault with him. ''• They say, He 
hath a devil." None but a demoniac would wholly 
abstain from the generous foods and exhilarating 
drinks which a gracious Providence has furnished for 
our nourishment and comfort. Well, to obviate their 
objection, Jesus was more sociable in his manners. 
He "came eating and drinking," Still, the Jews 
found fault. " They say, Behold, a man gluttonous, 
and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners." 
Never were accusations more unreasonable. Jesus 
was indeed the friend of publicans and sinners, and 
he did partake with a grateful heart of the wholesome 
food and drink common in that day and country ; but 
that he indulged in the slightest excess of eating or 
drinking was a groundless and base insinuation. They 

* Eom. ii : 1. f Mat. xi : 18, 19. 



176 CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 

were, in truth, a censorious generation, resolved not 
to be pleased — equally offended with piping or mourn- 
ing, with austerity or sociableness. . That generation 
has long since passed away ; but their spirit survives 
them, and displays itself in endless surmises, cavils, 
and denunciations. 

Censoriousness is a very prevalent evil. It has in- 
fected every class of society, and rages as an epidem^ 
ic within the precincts of many Christian churches. 
It would be curious, and might prove instructive, to 
estimate what proportion of the words in many re- 
fined and pious circles are words of suspicion, detrac- 
tion, censure, and ridicule. How often are God, the 
soul, and eternity forgotten in the eager discussion 
of the frailties, blunders, and misdoings of poor, err- 
ing mortals. These fault-finders well nigh reverse 
the apostolic injunction — ^' Speak evil of no man," 
and speak evil of all men. 

Censoriousness is a very great evil. Its bitter 
fruits are alienation, strifes, the disgrace of the church, 
the curse of souls, the discouragement of good men, 
and the triumph of the ungodly. We have known the 
peace of families and the prosperity of neighborhoods, 
as well as the respectability and usefulness of individ- 
uals, utterly subverted by this spirit, and its progeny 
of misrepresentation, fault-finding, and slanders. " The 
tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity : so is the tongue 
among our members, that it defileth the whole body, 
and setteth on fire the course of nature ; and it is set 
on fire officii."* 

* Jas. iii : 6. 



CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 177 

It is not easy to delineate the character of Censori- 
ous Christians. Censoriousness exists in degrees so 
various, and may be compounded with so many good 
and so many bad qualities, that no individual can be 
considered as a fair representative of the Class. As, 
however, brother Carper is one of this Class, and as 
I have the advantage of an intimate acquaintance with 
him, I have resolved to introduce him to my audience. 

He descended of the Hategood hniilj ; but grace has 
made him differ very widely from his kindred. Few 
doubt his piety, though all must see that it is not of 
the most lovely and attractive type. His tempera- 
ment is choleric. From one class of vices none can 
be freer than he. To the excessive indulgence of his 
appetites he has no temptation. A change of circum- 
stances might make him an anchorite, but not an epi- 
cure nor an inebriate. But to another class of sins 
he is peculiarly prone. Evil surmising, fault-finding, 
and their kindred evils, seem in his nature to find a 
congenial and fruitful soil. His mind is singularly 
constituted. It is almost blind to beauties, excellen- 
cies, and advantages ; but it has a keen perception of 
defects, deformities, and disadvantages. He scans 
every thing to discover its imperfections ; and of rare 
excellence must that object be in which he does not 
find them. Human character is a mixture of good 
and evil ; and the most we can reasonably hope to 
find in the best is a great preponderance of the good 
over the evil. In judging of human conduct we must 
distinguish between what is habitual and what is oc- 



178 CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 

casional — between wbat springs from principle and 
what from impulse ; we must weigh motives, make 
due allowance for surrounding circumstances^ and then 
judge charitably. But brother Carper judges all 
men by the same unbending rule ; he makes no allow- 
ance for youth, inexperience, sudden temptation, past 
rectitude, prompt repentance, and full reparation : all 
must be measured on the same Procrustean bedstead. 

But this brother's character may be best illustrated 
by a few striking facts in his life. Long after he pro- 
fessed hope in the Gospel, he was kept out of the 
church by its manifold imperfections. He saw many 
inconsistencies among its members — he deemed the 
pastor a good man, but not quite sound in the faith ; 
the worship of the church was not according to his 
taste ; and its discipline was less rigorous than he 
thought the Scriptures demanded. The truth is, he 
had by chance got possession of some of the writings 
of Robert Sandeman, of Scotland, and his religious 
sentiments received a bias from that distinguished, but 
rigid author. After years of instruction and persuasion, 
Mr. Carper so far yielded his scruples as to be bap- 
tized, and unite with the church. As he was an in- 
telligent, respectable, and on some accounts, worthy 
man, his entrance into the church was hailed with de- 
light ; but it was the beginning of trouble. 

Brother Carper soon began to prove a serious trial 
to his pastor. He felt that it was his duty to exer- 
cise a very strict and constant watch-care over him, 
to correct his mistakes, and point out his faults ; and 



CENSOPaOUS CHr.ISTIANS, 179 

he followed his vocation in no very lovely spirit. The 
pastor deemed it proper to deliver a series of sermons 
on a highly important paragraph of Scripture. They 
were carefully prepared, earnestly delivered, and lis- 
tened to by the congregation with decided interest* 
but brother Carper took offence. It seemed to him 
unreasonable that so many serfnons should be founded 
on a single text ; and he entered into some curious, 
and, as he supposed, instructive calculations, to ascer- 
tain how many sermons and how much time would be 
required at this rate to expound the whole Bible. 
His occasional frowns and studied inattention during 
the delivery of the sermons, as well as remarks made 
here and there, without any tender regard to the min- 
ister's feelings, indicated pretty plainly how deep an 
impression the calculation had made on his own 
heart. But as he could neither change the purpose 
of his pastor, nor arrest the prolix discussion, he 
withdrew for several Sabbaths to churches where the 
sermons bore, in his estimation, a more suitable pro- 
portion to the length of the text. 

Square-toed boots were just coming into fashion, 
and the pastor, all unconscious of guilt or mischief, 
bought a pair. At the close of the Sunday morning 
sermon, brother Carper^ taking the pastor aside, said 
to him — " Brother Freeman^ you have hurt my feel- 
ings to-day very much." '' Ah !" replied the Elder, 
" how did I do it ? 1 am sure I did not intend to do 
it." " Why," said Carper^ " you have put on square- 
toed boots — you are following the fashion — I'm sure 



180 CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 

Elder Worthall would not do such a thing." A dis- 
cussion ensued. The pastor endeavored to convince 
him that there was neilher good nor evil in the shape 
of his hoots — and that he purchased them not because 
they were fashionable, but fitted his feet, and were 
durable and cheap ; but Carper was not a man to be 
silenced by arguments. As Elder Freeman was a 
mild and conciliating man, he said — " Well, brother 
Carper J though I see no evil in wearing boots with 
square toes, yet as my doing so wounds your feelings, 
I will not wear them again." " Yes, but," replied 
brother Carper^ more excited than before, " you think 
it right to wear them — you justify the practice — and 
this is as bad as wearing them." Finding it impossi- 
ble to heal the wound, the grieved pastor went his 
way. Carper would gladly have formed a party in 
the church in opposition to this worldly innovation ; 
but, beyond his own family, his views met with but 
little countenance, and his efforts served to strengthen 
rather than overthrow the pastor's influence. 

The church music was a source of perpetual annoy- 
ance to brother Carper. His views on the subject 
of church singing were, in the main, quite scriptural. 
He maintained that in public worship the singing 
should be congregational, intelligent, and spiritual; 
and these views were generally conceded to be sound. 
But he was bitterly opposed, not only to instrumental 
music, but also to employing choirs to conduct sing- 
ing in public worship. He thought that Christians 
should do their own singing, and that unbelievers 



CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 181 

should receive no more encouragement to lead in pub- 
lic singing than in public prayer. For entertaining 
these opinions, and endeavoring in kindness to defend 
and spread them, none could blame him : but he could 
not sing himself, made no effort to acquire the art of 
singing, or to have others improved in it ; and yet he 
found fault with the singing. Others gave their attention, 
time, and money to improve the church music, la- 
mented that it was not better, and that the congrega- 
tion was so little qualified and inclined to participate 
in this delightful part of worship ; but brother Carper 
did nothing but find fault. 

It is needless to multiply statements of this kind. 
It would be difficult to name a practice or act of the 
church, relating to worship, discipline, or economy, 
with which brother Carper was not more or less dis- 
satisfied. He had a singular affinity for the minority, 
and if he was ever found with the majority it was 
purely accidental. He was opposed to renting pews ; 
it was a respecting of persons— to giving pastors a stip- 
ulated salary ; it tended to make them mercenary — 
to a permanent appointment of pastors ; it encour- 
aged their idleness — to the erection of fine^ as he 
called neat and convenient, houses of worship ; they 
engendered pride — in short, he was opposed to old 
things, because they were antiquated, and to new 
things, because they were innovations.. In truth, had 
he been in Paradise with his captious, restless spirit, 
he would have been dissatisfied. Its light would have 
been too glaring ; its music too rapturous ; and his 



182 CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 

soul would have loathed its fruits, as did the Israel- 
ites the manna in the desert. 

In a philanthropic spirit brother Carper did not 
appear to be deficient — at least, he was not in profes- 
sions of it. He saw, exaggerated, and deplored' the 
evils, moral and physical, abounding in the world ; 
but he was violently opposed to all the methods adop- 
ted by the wise and good for their removal or mitiga- 
tion. His philanthropy usually evaporated in fault- 
finding and denunciation. He had greater sympathy 
for remote than contiguous evils. All around him 
were neglected subjects of depravity, want, and mis- 
ery ; but his thoughts were occupied with crimes and 
woes afar off, which his imagination magnified, and 
which afforded him ample scope for indulging, with 
impunity, his peculiar humor. The practicability of 
redressing evils was with him a sufficient reason for 
neglecting them. Their relief would call into exer- 
cise certain qualities — patience, beneficence, and in- 
dustry — which would suspend or embarrass his fa- 
vorite occupation of fault-finding. Verily, his phi- 
lanthropy bears a strong resemblance to misanthropy. 
Whether a disposition to magnify evils, to denounce 
with bitterness, and without discrimination, their real 
or supposed authors, and to neglect or oppose every 
practical method for their alleviation, is to be traced 
to a misguided philanthropy, or to a covert misanthro- 
py, I leave to be determined by the Searcher of 
Hearts. 

One thing may be said in favor — if, indeed, it is in 



CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 183 

favor — of Mr. Carper. He seems to be actuated by 
a higb sense of justice. If he finds fault with others, 
he is quite willing that they should find fault with 
him. He is not merely willing, but desirous to re- 
ceive railing for railing, or denunciation for denunci- 
ation. He deems the love of popularity one of the 
crying evils of the day j and even prejudice cannot 
accuse him of sharing in its guilt. He covets re- 
proach, and glories in being despised ; for, in his judg- 
ment, reproach and infamy are the surest tests of wis- 
dom, fidelity, and usefulness. He considers himself 
enriched and ennobled by censures, especially such as 
are directed against his idiosyncracy. You cannot 
inflict on him a more painful wound than not to no- 
tice, or to treat with kindness his censures. 

In church discipline, as might reasonably be sup- 
posed, brother Carper is exceedingly rigorous. He 
considers the exercise of discipline one of the greatest 
church privileges. He may be absent from the pray- 
er or communion meeting from slight excuses ; but 
from meetings for the exercise of church discipline, 
nothing but invincible necessity can detain him. In 
the reception of members to church fellowship, he is 
excessively cautious and rigid ; and he is always la- 
menting that candidates for membership are admit- 
ted with so little knowledge, especially as to what con- 
stitutes the turpitude of sin, and so little experience 
of the efficacy of divine grace. His very presence is 
a terror to young converts, and the questions which 
he propounds to them would frequently perplex a 



184 CENSORIOUS CHRISTIANS. 

Doctor of Divinity. For offenders in the church he 
makes no allowances, and feels no pity. Excommu- 
nication is, in his estimation, a sovereign panacea for 
the diseases of the body ecclesiastic. His policy re- 
sembles that of a surgeon who should resort to ampu- 
tation for the relief of every wound, however slight 
and easily healed. He voted for the exclusion of 
sister Tasteful^ because she purchased a piano for 
her daughter; of brother Independent^ because he 
■united with a Free Mason's Lodge ; and of brother 
Supple^ because he attended a Fourth of July barbe- 
cue; and sought earnestly to eject 'EA^qx Freeman 
from the pastorate of the church because he was op- 
posed to making Total Abstinence from all intoxica- 
ting drinks a term of church membership. 

From two or three considerations I would briefly 
dissuade my brethren from indulging a Censorious 
spirit. 

1. It is wrong, God hates, forbids, and will pun- 
ish it. 

2. It is injurious. Many are irritated and driven 
to excesses, but none are reformed by it. 

3. It is ignoble — the mark of a contracted, selfish, 
petulent mind. To excel in fault-finding requires nei- 
ther genius, learning, nor study; but a suspicious 
temper, a malignant heart, and a tattling tongue. 



LECTURE XIII. 

OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 

We do not mean by Obstinate Christians such as 
have a clear perception of duty, a settled purpose to 
perform it, and an indomitable energy in the prosecu- 
tion of their schemes ; or those who possess, what is 
strikingly* delineated by Foster, decision of character. 
These constitute the most excellent and efficient class 
of Christians. They are the men who erect churches, 
conduct Sunday schools, found and endow colleges, 
form and execute plans for extending the empire of 
truth and righteousness — in a word, the working men 
of Christ's kingdom. Obstinacy is decision of char- 
ter, without the needed restraints of prudence, modesty 
and kindness — a compound of pride, self-conceit, scru- 
pulosity and moroseness — the luxuriant and thorny 
offshoot of a noble and fruit-bearing tree — right, over 
rigid, hardened into wrong. I need hardly say that 
this is a prevalent evil. Few churches are free from 
its malign influence. Pastors, deacons, and old and 
wealthy church members, are most likely to be infected 
with it. It is a most mischievous quality. The Ob- 
stinate Christian is heedless as to the rights and 
feelings of his brethren, reckless as to the conse- 



186 OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 

quences of his own conduct, and, though impelled by 
what he deems a conscientious regard to duty, is by 
no means scrupulous as to the means of accomplish- 
ing his purposes. In meetings for church disci- 
pline he is almost invariably a pest ; disregarding 
alike the rights and feelings of the majority or the 
minority, if they oppose his views. Our public meet- 
ings for devising and prosecuting plans for enlarging 
the Redeemer's kingdom, which should ever be char- 
acterized by affection and harmony, are too frequently, 
through his perverseness, converted into an arena for 
bitter discussion and offensive personalities. Obsti- 
nacy^ Christian obstinacy^ if I may so call it, is the 
author of confusion, the fomenter of strife, the father 
of schism, and the reproach of Christianity. This 
evil quality exists in different Christians in various 
degrees, and mingled with various excellencies and in- 
iSrmities. 

I propose to delineate some of the evils of obsti- 
nacy as I have seen them in the life of Deacon Head- 
strong, He is, in many respects, a man of rare worth. 
In the prosperity of the church none doubts that he 
feels a very deep and steady interest. Forty years he 
has been a member of it, and more than thirty year3 
he has discharged the duties of the deaconship. He 
knew the church in its infancy, has sympathized in its 
various trials and triumphs, and has contributed 
greatly by his money and personal attention to its 
present elevation. He remembers when the church 
met in a small " upper room," saw the foundation of 



OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 187 

the first church edifice laid, assisted in enlarging its 
dimensions, and finally contributed, with noble libe- 
rality, to the erection of a new, spacious and beauti- 
ful house of worship. He has attended the funerals 
of several pastors, and been the fast friend, and judi- 
cious counsellor of all, from Elder Trueman down to 
Elder Timothy, The Deacon is the Gains of the 
church. He keeps open doors, and entertains minis- 
ters and Christian brethren with an ever-flowing hos- 
pitality. His house resembles more a free Christian 
hotel than a private dwelling. Nor does his liberality 
exhaust itself in hospitality ; but being independent 
and prosperous, almost every beneficent and religious 
enterprise shares in his benefactions. Nor do his 
alms go up to Heaven without his prayers. He is a 
man of warm heart, and sincere, devoted piety. He 
is scrupulous to a fault, for it is frequently apparent, 
especially since he has grown old, that he mistakes a 
settled purpose for the dictates of conscience. What 
he wishes to do, he conscientiously thinks ought to be 
done ; and he is equally convinced that others, as well 
as himself, should be governed by the dictates of his 
conscience. On the whole, however, the Deacon is a 
pillar in the church. His good sense, sterling piety 
and great energy have secured for him a strong influ- 
ence among his brethren. 

A great pity it is that a character so bright as that 
of Deacon Headstrong should be spotted ; but spot- 
ted it is. He is obstinate ; and every body knows it 
but himself. He possessed naturally a strong will, 



188 OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 

and unwavering purpose, and time, instead of render- 
ing him cautious and conciliatory, has made him un- 
yielding, dogmatic and morose. He will have his 
own way, or he will do nothing. When in a good 
humor, he is a host in himself; but when a iSt of oh- 
stinacy overtakes him, he is a grief to the church and 
a stumbling block in the path of sinners. He is not 
always unyielding. There are times, and they are 
neither rare nor brief, when he is mild, gentle, con- 
ciliating, and even pliable. It were difficult to say 
on what his obstinacy depends. In the decision of 
weighty matters, and matters which deeply interest 
him, he may not betray any self-will ; but in the de- 
cision of a trifling question, he may grow determined 
and overbearing. When once he has fairly taken his 
stand, the matter is ended. Had you the wisdom of 
Solomon, the authority of Peter, the zeal of Paul, 
and the eloquence of Apollos, you might reason, re- 
monstrate and labor with him in vain. You might as 
well preach to a sullen ox, or an intractable mule, as to 
him. He is not the man to be convinced, or per- 
suaded against his once firmly expressed opinion. He 
does not, I presume, believe himself infallible ; but, 
on such an occasion, he acts as if he did most fully. 
If the church decides any matter contrary to his judg- 
ment, (an event which does not often occur,) and he 
plants himself in hostility to the decision ; then, if 
by any means, she can change that decision she will 
find it greatly to her peace. The Deacon will be put 
into the best possible humor, and will exert himself 



OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 189 

to promote her prosperity. But should she prove 
refractory, that is, assert her rights, she may antici- 
pate trouble. The grum and shaded countenance of 
Deacon Headstrong^ his shy and silent demeanor, his 
changing his seat in the sanctuary, his refusal to pray 
in the prayer-meeting, and his neglect of his official 
duties, indicate but too clearly the gathering storm. 
The church is now in a dilemma. Something ought 
to be done — that is clear — but what, the wisest are at 
a loss to determine. The Deacon is wrong — this 
every body admits, except himself and a few parti- 
zans ; but he is a good man — an old and venerated 
member — a valuable Deacon — has many warm friends 
in the church and in the community — can raise a re- 
spectable party in his behalf — and all would depre- 
cate any rash measures in the case. What can be 
done ? Deacon Makepeace proposes that the subject 
shall be permitted to rest, that time may lend its in- 
fluence to heal the breach. The proposal is readily 
concurred in by the church. The matter rests, so far 
as busy-bodies will permit! Months glide away, but 
there sits Deacon Headstrong^ in a remote part of the 
sanctuary, with the same morose and clouded counte- 
nance, and the same look of determination. The 
truth is, there are but two courses to pursue. The 
church must either take the Deacon under discipline, 
with the prospect of agitation, faction, and schism 
before her eyes ; or retrace her steps. 

On such occasions the Deacon is not particularly 
desirous to render a reason for his course. The 



190 OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 

church is under great obligations to him — ^he contri- 
buted liberally towards the erection of her beautiful 
house of worship — has done much to promote her wel- 
fare — is entitled to respect on account of his age — and 
it is but reasonable that his wishes should be regarded. 
I must notice particularly one event in the history 
of this good man, which caused him great grief, and 
gave his enemies an occasion to reproach him. He 
had an altercation with his pastor. It was not, at 
first, serious. It might have been easily settled. Had 
the controversy arisen between Deacon Makepeace 
and the pastor it would have been quickly and plea- 
santly adjusted. But Deacon Headstrong was irasci- 
ble and unyielding ; and the pastor was indiscreet, and 
not faultless. Every effort to heal the dissension 
widened the breach. Parties were soon formed in 
the church; and discussions engendered bitterness. 
The Deacon was supported by the Trustees of the 
church, and by the old and wealthy members ; and 
the pastor was followed by the young, the active, and 
the devout. As the obstinacy of the Deacon and the 
imprudence of the pastor precluded the possibility 
of an amicable settlement of the difficulty, a division 
of the church ensued. The right to the property 
being with the Deacon and his party, the pastor and 
his adherents seceded from the church. It was a sad 
event — a reproach to Christianity, and a grief to good 
men. None, however, so deeply deplored it as the 
Deacon. He loved the church as his own life — had 
toiled long, and made great sacrifices for it — had 



OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 191 

watched its growtli with pride and pleasure — and now 
to see it rent asunder and disgraced was a calamity 
almost too great for him to bear. He wept as he 
would have done at the death of his first-born ; and 
was exceedingly anxious to convince his friends that 
he had done all in his power to prevent the unfortu- 
nate division. 

Every body knew that the obstinacy of Deacon 
Headst7'onghQ>d caused the secession from the church; 
but his most intimate friend could not express this 
conviction without forfeiting his favor. This Elder 
Candid learned from experience. The Deacon, 
anxious to secure the good opinion of the Elder ^ com- 
menced giving him a minute account of the causes 
which had led to a rupture in the church. In order 
that the conclusion might be such as he desired, he 
deemed it proper to gain the assent of Candid to all 
his own views as he proceeded in the narrative. He 
soon stated a principle of discipline from which the 
Elder dissented. This was unfortunate for Head- 
strong, It was the very point at which he had been 
most strongly pressed by his opponents. If that prin- 
ciple was not admitted his course could not be vindi- 
cated. Candid, knowing the temper of his friend, 
would gladly have avoided the discussion of the ques- 
tion. He endeavored to waive it, but in vain. The 
Deacon was resolved to convince him of the soundness 
of the principle. The Elder listened long and pa- 
tiently to the arguments in its support, and was de- 
sirous that the narrative should be resumed. But 



192 OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 

Headstrong would not proceed until lie was satisfied 
that his brother agreed with him on this point. ^^Are 
you convinced that I am right ?" inquired the Deacon, 
" I am not," answered the Elder, ^' What reasons 
can you give for the opposite opinion ?" continued the 
Deacon, Finding his attempts to evade discussion 
ineffectual, the Elder clearly stated his opinion, and 
very calmly and forcibly the arguments in its sup- 
port. The speech was like a dagger piercing the heart 
of poor Mr. Headstrong. It was a repetition of the 
very arguments which he had heard from his oppo- 
nents. He plainly perceived that failing to convince 
the Elder on that point, his conclusion would be 
favorable to the seceding party which had caused 
him so much distress, and he abruptly closed the 
discussion by saying, "Brother Candid^ I am old 
enough to be jour father.'^'' The Elder was bound to 
admit the correctness of the remark, and had age 
always been accompanied by wisdom, he would have 
been convinced as well as silent. From that time 
Headstrong counted the excellent Candid an enemy. 
One law of Christ this good man invariably, so far 
as I am informed, transgresses. It is this — " If thy 
brother shall trespass against thee go tell him his 
fault, between thee and him alone." He is not igno- 
rant of the law — he greatly prizes it as a rule of con- 
duct for others — and it must be conceded that as a 
disciplinarian he has sound judgment, great experi- 
ence and discretion, and no ordinary tact — but when 
offended himself, a false view of his dignity, with a 



OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 193 

certain stubbornness of disposition, prevents him from 
seeking a personal and private explanation. The of- 
fender, he thinks, should come to him. The offense 
has been unprovoked, and the reparation should be 
spontaneous. 

Deacon Headstrong^ though resembling him in 
some points, differs widely in others, from Deacon 
Diotrephes.^ They are both self-willed, obstinate, 
and miQQnij: oWb^Aq \ hvit Diotrephes is selfish, mali- 
cious, aspiring merely after power and preeminence ; 
-while Headstrong is disinterested, pious, and seeking 
only the welfare of the church. The same natural 
disposition is showing itself in the depravity of Dio- 
trephes^ and the piety of Headstrong. In the one it 
is an infirmity, an evil, which grace has not yet reme- 
died — in the other it is the unchecked current of an 
unsanctified heart. Deacon Headstrong often sees, 
bitterly laments, and earnestly combats his besetting 
sin ; but Diotrephes glories in his influence, distinction, 
and deeds. Whether grace would have made Dio- 
trephes such, a man as Deacon Headstrong^ I cannot 
say ; but quite certain I am, that Headstrong^ with- 
out grace, would greatly resemble Diotrephes, 

I can hardly think of Deacon Headstrong without 
weeping. I love him, and more, I admire him for his 
sincerity, his integrity, his generosity, his pious la- 
bors ; in short, every thing but his morose, overbear- 
ing obstinacy. Cured of this infirmity, he would be 

* 3 John ix. 



194 OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 

a priceless jewel in any church. As it is, his influence 
is equivocal — his good is evil spoken of — ^his brethren 
love him and dread him — they cannot well do with- 
out him, nor well do with him. He is the pastor's 
best friend, wisest counsellor, firmest supporter, and 
greatest grief. He is an honor and reproach to the 
Christian cause ; his piety none doubts, and his in- 
firmity every body sees ; his over-bearing course fills 
discreet Christians with sorrow, weak Christians with 
resentment, and affords amusement to sceptics and 
cavilers. 

I have already intimated that Obstinate Christians 
are a numerous class; but few of them, however, 
compare favorably with Deacon Headstrong. He is, 
certainly, one of the best of his class. None is more 
obstinate than he ; but he possesses so many redeem- 
ing qualities, that we almost forget, and readily for- 
give his obstinacy. Many are not only obstinate, but 
ignorant, weak-minded, selfish, irrascible, indiscreet, 
and good for nothing. I am sorry from my heart to 
see the Deacon in such bad company ; and I am sur- 
prised that a man of his sense and worth does not 
perceive the qualities which usually distinguish his 
class, and abandon it. By the way, I am reminded 
that Deacon Firmly^ whose character was bordering 
on obstinacy, was greatly profited by witnessing the 
perverseness of his much loved hvotherj Headstrong. 
He saw so clearly the folly and mischief of a dogged 
and uncontrollable self-will in the conduct of Deacon 
Headstrong, that he heartily loathed it, and was 



OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 195 

greatly assisted in guarding against that tendency in 
his own disposition. So we may thank God, not only 
for the good the Deacon accomplishes by his direct 
and liberal efforts, but for the good which grace ex- 
tracts from his evil example. 

I offer a few remarks to Ohstinate Christians — 
1. Consider that other persons have minds, and 
knowledge, and feelings, and rights as well as your- 
selves ; and that to these you should pay due respect. 
Tou owe kindness, courtesy, and gentleness to every 
human being with whom you may have intercourse. 
If you were isolated you might pursue your own way 
without restraint or injustice ; but you are members 
of society, and society can be maintained in harmony 
only by mutual concessions and forbearance. Obsti- 
nate men are unfit for society. A church composed 
of obstinate members would more resemble a menag- 
erie of untamed beasts than the gentle flock of 
Christ. 

2. Remember that you are, like other men, liable to 
err in judgment. You have had so many opportuni- 
ties of seeing your mistakes and follies, that I am 
amazed that you should still expect others to confide 
in you as infallible. Can your blunders never teach 
you to distrust your own judgments ? " He that 
thinketh he knoweth anything, knoweth nothing yet 
as he ought to know." 

3. Be always willing, especially in matters which 
personally concern you, to be guided by the wisdom 
and experience of the disinterested. You are not re- 



196 OBSTINATE CHRISTIANS. 

quired in any case to violate the dictates of your eon- 
sciences ; but be careful that you do not mistake your 
inclinations and settled purposes for these. This is 
your danger. Men are often conscientiously wrong. 
'^ I verily thought with myself," said Paul, " that I 
ought to do many things contrary to the name of 
Jesus of Nazareth, which things I also did." And 
yet his conduct, as he subsequently saw and confessed, 
was extremely wicked. 

4. Bear in mind that your ohstinacy^ while it may 
enable you to carry some favorite points, will greatly 
diminish your influence and usefulness. All men lis- 
ten with pleasure to the suggestions of the gentle, the 
unassuming, and the conciliating ; but the words of 
the self-willed and overbearing are heard with distrust 
and dissatisfaction. Most men are willing to follow 
a leader, but no man wishes to be dictated to. 

5. The best corrective of your evil disposition is to 
witness its fruits in others. I am sure you will hate 
your own image in your neighbor's face. If you can 
see the obstinate man, supplying the lack of reason 
by the strength of his inclination, and pursuing his 
useless way unmindful of the wishes of friends, and 
the rights of his associates, without loathing the dis- 
position, and resolving, and fervently praying, to be 
freed from it, you are incurable. 

In conclusion, my brethren, let us all guard against 
this evil. Obstinacy begets obstinacy. In dealing 
with an obstinate man we instinctively place our- 
selves in an attitude of firmness and defiance. Igno- 



OBSTINATE CHPaSTIANS. 197 

ranee, stupidity, and depravity may, and probably 
will, be obstinate ; but to yield when we cannot longer 
contend with dignity ; to acknowledge our wrong 
when we are convinced of it ; to retrace our steps 
when equity or prudence demands it ; and to be con- 
ciliating and gentle in our dealings with men, even the 
obstinate, are marks of an ingenuous and noble mind ; 
and whoever may be lacking in these qualities, the 
Christian should not, and the enlightened and consis- 
tent Christian will not be. 



LECTURE XIV. 

SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 

I DO not by Speculative mean Inquisitive Chris- 
tians. Inquisitiveness is one of our instincts, con- 
ferred on us by our beneficent Creator for a noble 
purpose. It is the intellectual appetite for appropriate 
nourishment. When duly directed and regulated, it is 
the mainspring of the attainments in knowledge and wis- 
dom, on which, in a great measure. Christian useful- 
ness depends. I would that Christians were more in- 
quisitive to understand God's words and ways than 
they are. Nor is Speculation in itself an evil. God 
has endowed us with a capacity for speculation ; and 
he does not interdict its exercise, even on religious 
subjects. Let us be careful not to confound the ob- 
jects of faith and the objects of speculation — the 
truths of revelation and the deductions of reason ; and 
no mischief can arise from the boldest flights of imag- 
ination, or the most startling deductions of reason. 
By Speculative Christians^ I mean such as are more 
curious than practical — more disposed to dive into 
profound subjects than to profit by such as are clear. 
We have a specimen of this curiosity in the conduct 
of Peter. ^' Lord," said he, '^ and what shall this 



SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 199 

man do ?" referring to John. A thousand important 
questions pertaining to duty and interest he might 
have asked ; but he propounded one of idle curiosity, 
and Jesus rebuked his prying disposition. ^' If I 
will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee ? 
Follow thou me.''* This class of Christians is not 
very numerous, but may be found interspersed through 
all the churches. They are always useless, generally 
harmless, but sometimes their notions engender strife 
and divisions. 

I shall make no apology for introducing to this au- 
dience an eminent Speculatist — Elder Clever — as I 
am sure I cannot more clearly describe the class of 
Christians under consideration than by furnishing a 
brief memoir of his life. 

Elder Clever possessed a peculiar intellect. He 
w^s remarkable rather for imagination than for judg- 
ment — for curiosity than for the power of analysis. 
He always seemed disposed to dive to the bottom, or 
rise to the summit of every subject which attracted 
his attention. When he was a school-boy he spent 
much time in fruitless efforts to invent a perpet- 
ual motion, and frequently supposed he had attained 
his object. Mr. Clever'' s experience was very singu- 
lar. He seemed quite conscious of his depravity and 
guilt, and was occasionally deeply anxious about his 
state; but his mind was perplexed concerning the 
mode of the Spirit's operation in a sinner's conversion, 
and the nature of Christ's atonement. A fact, how- 
* John XX : 21, 22. 



200 SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 

ever, will better serve to display his peculiar mental 
tendency. He attended a meeting of deep religious 
interest and feeling. Many were converted, and re- 
joicing in Christ. Mr. Clever was awakened, over- 
whelmed, and bathed in tears. He came to Elder 
Kindman^ and desired to have a private interview 
with him, to which the Elder kindly and promptly as- 
sented, for he had marked his distress. Being at a 
country house of worship, they took a long walk into 
the forest, and after seating themselves, young Clever 
commenced : " Mr. Kindman^ I have long desired to 
have a private conversation with you. I have a ques- 
tion to ask, which I hope you will be able to answer : 
Can you tell me who Melchisedec was .5"' The El- 
der scarcely knew whether to laugh or weep at the un- 
expected and profitless question. After some years 
of inquiry, and occasional seasons of anxiety, Mr 
Clever obtained confidence to offer himself as a candi- 
date for membership in the Soaring church, in the dis- 
trict of Utopia, His experience was deemed satis- 
factory, and very favorable anticipations of his use- 
fulness were entertained. 

The thoughts of Mr. Clever were soon directed to 
the subject of his entrance on the Christian ministry. 
The brethren warmly seconded his desires, and he 
commenced a course of studies preparatory to his ex- 
pected vocation. Of his college course I have no in- 
formation, except that his studies were desultory, his 
attainments superficial, and he was well pleased with 
his own progress. During his theological term, he 



SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 201 

much neglected his text books, for German authors of 
the Transcendental school, and certain English poets 
and essayists of the same stamp. He finished his 
studies, returned to Utopia^ and was considered by 
many members of the Soaring church one of the 
brightest geniuses. At this time, as I resided not 
far from the same district, my acquaintance with bro- 
ther Clever commenced. I assisted in his ordination. 
He preached a sermon before the Presbytery from the 
words — " For the creature was made subject to van- 
ity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath sub- 
jected the same in hope."* I need say nothing of 
the sermon, but that I could not understand it. I 
doubted the propriety of his ordination, but was over- 
ruled by the Presbytery, and yielded to the earnest 
solicitation of the church. 

Soon after his ordination, he came to my study, in 
great haste, inquiring whether I had " Locke on the 
Human Understanding," ^' Stewart's Philosophy," 
and other metaphysical works, whose titles I have now 
foro;otten. I asked him what use he wished to make 
of them, and he informed me that he was preparing a 
sermon on the subject of faith, and desired to have a 
more distinct conception of the mental process of be- 
lieving. I endeavored, but in vain, to convince him 
that the Bible would answer the purpose of making 
believers better than any works on mental philosophy. 
I never learned the result of his sermon. 

* Rom. viii : 20. 



202 SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 

While he was a young man, he preached a discourse 
from the text, " wheel,"* in the presence of Elder 
Flainman^ a clear-headed, sound theologian. The 
sermon was one of Cleverh most labored and tower- 
ing efforts. He was exceedingly anxious to know 
what opinion Elder Plainman had formed of it ; and 
he repeatedly intimated, pretty clearly, that he en- 
tertained this desire ; but the judicious Elder con- 
tinued silent on the subject. At length the young 
man's curiosity overcame his modesty, and he said, 
" Father Plainman^ I should like very much to know 
what opinion you entertain of my sermon on the 
wheel." The Elder was a man of few words, and he 
briefly replied, '^ It was too deep for me, brother 
Clever^ too deep." Young Clever was chagrined at 
the implied rebuke, but soon forgot it amid the lav- 
ish encomiums bestowe d on him by some of the mem- 
bers of the Soaring church. 

I could frequently learn from his admirers the fa- 
vorite themes of his ministry. The Origin of Evil 
was to him a prolific subject of discourse. On this 
topic he poured forth sermon after sermon, each, in 
the judgment of his admirers, exceeding all its prede- 
cessors in depth and power. How sin could originate 
in a perfect being, was a puzzle to many until they 
heard Clever preach. On this point, particularly, he 
was supposed to shed new and satisfactory light. 
Another of his chosen themes was the Identity cf the 

* Ez. x: 13. 



SPECULATIVE CHPJSTIANS. 203 

Body in the 'Resurrection. On this subject his hear- 
ers received, or had an opportunity of receiving, much 
light on human physiology, the numerous changes 
through which the human body is passing, and the 
thing which constitutes bodily identity. Clever 
boasted right heartily, no doubt, that he did not be- 
long to that , plodding class of preachers whose lot it 
is to revolve forever within the limits of a half- bushel \ 
and many of his hearers were delighted that they had 
a pastor capable of discussing new and untried themes. 
The Harmony of the Divine Decrees and Human 
Free Agency was another subject which frequently 
called forth all the learning and powers of Clever. 
Many years ago I heard him preach a sermon on this 
subject, which so deeply imprinted itself on my mind 
that I now distinctly remember its outline. The 
text was- — " O Lord^ revive thy worky* It was de- 
livered during the progress of a glorious work of 
grace. Thus, after repeating his text, he commenced 
— " Here is a work — which supposes a workman — and 
thirdly, a rule to work by. Now a rule has two ends, 
and a middle ; and the middle is equidistant from 
both ends." The plan of his sermon was thus marked 
out : He proposed to begin in the middle, and work 
toward the ends. The sermon was two hours in 
length, delivered with great earnestness, and was by 
some supposed to exceed in originality, profundity, 
and richness any effort which he had previously made, 

* Hab. iii : 2. 



204 SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 

My stock of Biblical knowledge was very meagre, and 
my mind rather averse to abstruse speculations, and 
unfortunately I could not appreciate the discourse. 
It was above, or below, my comprehension. As I 
came out of the house, I heard a member of the 
Soaring church say, seemingly in raptures, '' Well, I 
never understood before how God could justly con- 
demn a man for doing what he had fore-ordained that 
he should do." 

Elder Clever was a great student of the Apoca- 
lypse. By repeated readings, and careful examina- 
tions, he came, so he and his admirers thought, to un- 
derstand it better than any other portion of the Scrip- 
tures. For a time his ministry was entirely confined 
to its exposition. It was deemed a pity by many that 
views so recondite, so satisfactory, and so useful, 
should be longer concealed from the world. They 
were well understood and highly appreciated in Uto- 
pia^ and especially by a portion of the Soaring 
church ; but it was little better than robbery to keep 
them from the rest of the world. It was resolved 
that they should be written and printed ; and to en- 
sure their circulation, the pamphlet containing them 
was gratuitously distributed — Clever^ in the ardor of 
his zeal, bearing most of the expense. He begins his 
exposition with modesty. If he is wrong, he hopes 
some wiser head will set him right — a pretty difficult 
task to perform. When he reaches in his comments 
the thirteenth chapter of Eevelation, he finds a clear 
prediction of the suppression of the United States 



SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 205 

Bank by General Jackson. By this time all his mod- 
esty has vanished, his light has become so clear that 
he writes as one possessing authority, and having 
disclosed the meaning of the Apocalyptic symbol, he 
abruptly inquires — ^^ Reader, can you doubt it ? If 
you do, you are damned as certainly as there is a God 
in heaven." But other, and less revolting thoughts 
were soon to take possession of his mind. 

The truth of Phrenology I neither affirm nor deny. 
The science, if science it be, not coming within the 
scope of my professional studies, I have not found 
time to examine. Elder Clever was an early and ar- 
dent convert to the system. His belief in it gave a 
decided turn and character to his preaching. One 
could not listen to his discourse, either in the pulpit 
or in private, without clearly perceiving that he had 
studied Phrenology. All his estimates of human 
conduct, all his prospects of success in the ministry, 
and all his schemes of usefulness, were based upon, or 
modified by it. " This," I heard him say, '^ is the 
science,^^ But a fact, better than mere statements^ 
will illustrate the state of his mind. His wife, un- 
fortunately, was not pious. A Christian minister was 
endeavoring to impress on her mind the importance 
of immediate attention to her salvation. Elder Clever 
interposed. '^ My wife," said he," has Conscientious- 
ness and Veneratio7t well developed ; but she is want- 
ing in Ideality and Order ; and in spite of all the minis- 
ter's efforts he was forced into a discussion on Phreno- 
logical points ; and the poor woman, in considering 



206 SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 

the bumps on her cranium, forgot that she had a soul 
to be saved or lost. 

Another science, of still sublimer import, as Elder 
Clever thought, and of which I am equally ignorant 
and uncertain, soon gained and absorbed his attention. 
This was Mesmerism. A few experiments convinced 
him of its truth ; and he quickly swallowed and di- 
gested the whole system : the reality of the Mesmeric 
sleep ^ sympathy between the Mesmerizer and the per- 
son Mesmerized^ Phreno- Magnetism^ Clairvoyance ^ 
and all. Great and important results, he believed 
and taught, were to flow from the progress of Mes- 
meric science. By it, the immortality of the soul, 
the intervention of spiritual agents in the affairs of 
mortals, and other important principles Were, he thought, 
irrefutably established. So direct and important was 
the bearing which he supposed it to have on the pro- 
gress of Christianity, that he lectured on it, and em- 
ployed his pen to elucidate and confirm it. Indeed, 
he considered the recently developed laws of Animal 
Magnetism as a sort of new revelation to mankind, 
in harmony with the Bible, as the Old and New Tes- 
taments are in harmony with each other. 

But it is time I should notice the fiifluence of Mr. 
Clever^s ministry in the Soaring congregation. To 
many his preaching was distasteful — chiefly those who, 
removing from other places into Utopia^ had their 
tastes, in regard to sermons, formed before their set- 
tlement there. Some were not profited by his minis- 
trations — they could scarcely tell why; for they 



SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 207 

readily admitted that he was a learned, profound, and 
eloquent divine ; and they could not avoid feeling 
some pride that they attended on the ministry of so 
distinguished an orator. Others, again — and they 
were numerous in the Soaring church — were delight- 
ed with his preaching. ''He," said they, "is the 
man for us. — we are fed by his sermons — we never 
understood the mysteries of the Gospel until we heard 
him." Elder Plainman was invited by the pastor, 
as a matter of courtesy, to deliver a sermon to the 
Soaring church. He was a clear, sound, searching, 
practical preacher ; but the admirers of Clever were 
greatly scandalized by his pointed discourse. Some 
evinced their disapprobation by shaking their heads — 
some by attempting to go to sleep — others by their 
listlessness — and a few by leaving the house. One 
effect of Elder Clever- s preaching was obvious. Many 
of his hearers became too wise to be taught, even by 
him. They openly boasted of the depth and variety 
of their own speculations. Meanwhile, as no conver- 
sions occurred, and few additions from any quarter 
were made to the church, the congregation gradually 
dwindled. Dissensions arose, and matters were man- 
ifestly drawing to a crisis. Elder Clever launched 
into new speculations in Geology and the Origin of 
the Human Race, which not proving acceptable to 
the best-instructed members of the Soaring church, 
it only remained that he should send in his resigna- 
tion. After a warm discussion, it was accepted by a 
decided majority — many, however, affirming that 



208 SPECULATIVE CHRISTIANS. 

Soaring church would never have another such pas- 
tor; and, pretty certainly, it never will. 

My hearers may be curious to know what has be- 
come of Elder Clever — and that curiosity I will en- 
deavor to gratify. He removed to West Utopia — 
boarded with an amiable family attached to the New 
Jerusalem church — was taken sick — was kindly treat- 
ed by the family — regained his health — and with re- 
turning health, a new, refreshing, and glorious light, 
as he judged, shone on his mind from the writings of 
Baron Emanuel Swedenborg. He is now a member 
and teacher of the New Jerusalem church. All the 
lights of Phrenology^ Mesmerism^ and Geology mingle 
their rays to guide him through the mysteries and 
labyrinths of Swedenborgianism. He is perfectly at 
home in expounding the Scriptures in their natural, 
spiritual, and celestial import \ and to him " Divine 
Humanity'''' is a theme as prolific of sermons, as, in 
former years, was the Origin of Evil, He now be- 
lieves, honestly, no doubt, that all the world is in- 
sane, except the few who have been restored to their 
reason by the great apostle, Swedenborg, 

Having, brethren and hearers, spent so much time 
in delineating the character of Elder Clever^ I must 
leave you to make an application of this subject for 
yourselves — merely remarking that it is far better to 
practice what we know, than to aspire to know what 
is not revealed ; and if we will do the will of God, 
we shall know of the doctrine, by whomsoever taught, 
whether it be of God, or whether it be of men. 



LECTURE XV. 

COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 

It may seem paradoxical to speak of Covetous 
Ch?'istians. Can a Christian be covetous ? Does 
not grace subdue^ in every sincere believer, the reign- 
ing power of selfishness ? Is it not about as con- 
gruous to speak of an honest thief, or a temperate 
drunkard, as a covetous Christian ? In what degree 
a Christian may be covetous I will not undertake to 
decide; but one thing I know, some church members 
are covetous. This class is, indeed, quite numerous, 
embracing not only private members, but also " bishops 
and deacons." No evil seems to be more rife, and 
of more baneflil influence in the churches, than cove- 
tousness. I cannot better illustrate its nature and 
influence than by portraying the character of a church 
member with whom, doubtless, you are all well ac- 
quainted — Father Gripe. 

In his early years, Mr. Gripe was rather dissipated 
— not particularly free in spending his money, but 
still not deemed by his associates penurious. In sea- 
sons of conviviality he would freely use his means for 
the indulgence of his appetites, and the entertainment 
of his friends ; but afterwards he would be seriously 



210 COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 

grieved at this extravagance. When he was about 
thirty years old, in a great revival which occurred in 
his neighborhood, he' professed conversion, was bap- 
tized, and united with a very efficient church. He 
promised, for a season, to be a useful member. His 
habits were quite reformed — ^he was punctual in his 
attendance on religious meetings — and took an active 
part in church discipline; for prayer-meetings, how- 
ever, he never evinced much fondness. 

Mr. Gripe being industrious, and a good manager, 
and having withal an economical wife, began to pros- 
per in his worldly circumstances, and soon became in- 
dependent. Few members of the church were able to 
give so much to its support, and to the cause of Chris- 
tian benevolence, as he. He was wealthy, his family 
inexpensive, and his resources constantly accumula- 
ting. His penuriousness, which was suspected by 
deacon Careful^ from the commencement of his reli- 
gious profession, was soon made apparent to all the 
church. 

Under the faithful labors of Elder Titus, the church 
had become a large, strong and active body, and find- 
ing their place of worship too small for them, and in 
an unfavorable location, they entertained the purpose 
of erecting a house, in a more central position, better 
suited to their wants, and to the improved taste of the 
community. They were fully able to accomplish the 
object, and sound policy demanded that they should 
do so. Brother Gripe set himself in most active hos- 
tility to the scheme. Pride was at the bottom of it ; 



COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 211 

and God would certainly frown on it. But deacon 
Liberal supported the measure, promised a subscrip- 
tion of five hundred dollars to begin with, and the 
church sustained his views with an overwhelming ma- 
jority. Brother Gripe found himself in a small 
minority, composed mostly of the Saveall family, 
with whom he was on terms of intimacy. The new 
house of worship was commenced, and soon completed 
— a most commodious and beautiful house, and an en- 
during monument of the enterprise and liberality of 
the church. But as the work was commenced con- 
trary to the wish of brother Gripe ^ he could not rea- 
sonably be expected, so he said, to give any thing to 
aid it. He was opposed to the enterprise on princi- 
ple. He maintained that a house of religious wor- 
ship should be of the simplest, cheapest kind. One 
thing, however, struck many persons as being a lit- 
tle singular. The Gripe mansion was one of the 
finest in the neighborhood — large, convenient and 
costly. Some persons were reminded of the words of 
Bishop Lowth — " It argues a great contempt of God 
and religion, when men think no cost or finery too 
great to bestow on themselves, and the meanest ac- 
commodation good enough for the service of God." 

Mr. Gripe was not yet out of difficulty. On enter- 
ing the new house, the church, after much anxious 
consultation, resolved to rent the pews. This mea- 
sure was more distasteful to him than the erection of 
the house. In favor of this there were some plausi- 
ble arguments ; but that, in his estimation, was dis- 



212 COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 

crimmating between the rich and poor — selling the G-os- 
pel — and fostering a spirit of pride and vanity. But 
he could not control the church in this matter ; for even 
his friends, the SaveaUs^ deserted him on this point. 
He was sorely chagrined, and after some delay, he re- 
solved, to the no little joy of some of his brethren, to 
change his church relation. 

He has now become an old man, and is generally 
known as Father Gripe. His wealth has increased 
with his years — he is now very rich — but nothing 
seems to open his heart or subdue his selfishness. He 
greatly prefers private to public charities. He acts, 
according to his own account of the matter, on the 
principle of not letting his left hand kno%r what his 
right hand does ; and truly his left hand is kept in 
profound ignorance on the subject. But as the church 
will have contributions for benevolent and religious 
purposes, he advocates public collections in preference 
to individual subscriptions, that all may have an op- 
portunity of giving something ; though, to my certain 
knowledge, on one occasion, when a collection was 
taken up for an important object, at the close of an 
impressive sermon on the subject, he cast into the 
basket a single half dime. Sometimes, however, a 
subscription for an object he admits to be good is pre- 
sented to him. It would be amusing, if the subject 
were not too sad for amusement, to listen to the ex- 
cuses by which he endeavors to justify himself in re- 
fusing to subscribe. The times are very hard — he 
has debts that must be met — unusual demands have 



COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 213 

recently been made on his liberality-^he dislikes to 
put bis band to paper — prefers paying tbe casb — ^bas 
no money by bim just at tbis time — tbinks be is not 
now able to do anything — should be have any thing 
to give be will call on you. 

Sometimes, indeed, a liberal impulse comes over 
Father Gripe to give, not of what be now possesses, 
but of what be hopes to obtain. One day be came 
to me, in an unusually cheerful mood, and said — " I 
have been intending to do more for tbe cause of re- 
ligion than I have heretofore done." I was glad to 
hear it, for I knew be could give thousands without 
feeling tbe loss. ^^ I have," he continued, '^ a scheme 
in my bead, and if you can aid me in carrying it 
out, I have resolved to give tbe profits" — the old 
man's countenance became grave, made so, no doubt, 
by the very solemn promise which he was about to 
utter, '' or, at least, half of them" — and Father Gripe 
hesitated, as if be thought the amount might be too 
great to bestow — " at any rate," be continued, " I 
will give some portion of them to tbe cause of mis- 
sions, if I can afford to do so,"^^ The old man's 
generous impulse had died away while be was giving 
it utterance. ' 

Father Gripe is friendly to Christian missions, at 
least, professes to be. He has many objections to 
tbe modes of conducting them, but freely admits their 
importance, and his obligation to contribute to their 
support. On one occasion, I went to him to solicit 
a contribution to aid a worthy young brother to ob- 



214 COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 

tain an education : lie declined giving any things as he 
was of opinion that young men, by industry and 
economy, might easily obtain an education them- 
selves. He took occasion, however, to expatiate on 
the deep interest he felt in the Mission cause, and his 
willingness to contribute to so noble an object. I sus- 
pected, not uncharitably, that his zeal in this noble 
cause was assumed merely to conceal his parsimonious- 
ness in refusing to aid the young friend whose case 
had just been brought to his notice. I determined 
that I would catch him in his own net. Not long 
after this, Elder Gatherum^ Agent of the Mission 
Board, came among us, and I resolved to take him to 
see Father Gripe, After giving the agent some in- 
structions how to proceed, we went in the evening to 
the beautiful Grij^e Ma7tsion, We found its pro- 
prietor comfortably seated in his parlor, and alone. 
After some civilities had passed, knowing that delay 
might frustrate our purpose, I opened the object of 
our visit. '' Fathe?' Gripe, I heard you say not long 
since, that you felt a deep interest in the Mission 
cause, and were willing to -contribute to its support, 
and as brother Gatherum is an agent for that cause, 
I have taken the liberty to bring him to see you, 
hoping that you may give him a liberal offering." The 
agent, who well understood his vocation, took up the 
subject, and spoke feeliugly of the perishing condition 
of the heathen, the pressing wants of our Missiona- 
ries, the embarrassments of the Board, and the re- 
sponsibility of Christians, especially such as God had 



COVETOUS CHr.ISTIANS. 215 

prospered in their worldly circumstances. The old 
Father seemed to hear very little of what was said, 
but to be absorbed in his own thoughts. ^' I am 
friendly to the cause of missions," said he, '' but I am 
entirely opposed to sending money out of the country, 
while we have so many heathen at home." He 
breathed more freely, and seemed more composed 
after this remark. The conversation was continued 
on this subject for a few minutes. Father Gripe 
avowed himself ready to give liherally to the Home 
Mission cause, but could not give to the Foreign Mis- 
sion. There was no use of farther discussion on that 
point. '' It is," said the agent, " most providential, 
that just as I was about to leave home, the excellent 
Secretary of the Domestic Mission Board placed a 
commission in my hands, and urged me, in view of 
their peculiar necessities, to collect something for their 
treasury, if I found a fit opportunity of doing so. '*I 
have," said the old brother, '' peculiar notions on this 
subject — I would rather my money should go to aid 
in circulating the Bible, than the support of Missiona- 
ries — T know that is God's Word, but I do not know 
that Missionaries are good men." " Very well," re- 
plied the agent, " the Domestic Board has a Bible 
department, and your contribution can take that di- 
rection." Father Gripe was caught. He walked 
slowly to his desk, and, after turning over his bills for 
some time, he returned with a five dollar note. ^^ You 
need not," said he, ^^ publish my name; I dislike 
ostentatious charity." It was a niggardly ofi'eriDg, re- 



216 COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 

luctantly bestowed. He ouglit not to have given less 
than fifty dollars, and lie migbt have given five hun- 
dred more easily than brother Trueheart gave fifty, and 
sister Mercy gave one dollar. We returned felicita- 
ting ourselves that some little had been obtained, 
which, though it could not bless the giver, might pro- 
mote a good cause ; but, on inquiry, it was found that 
Father Gripe's note was on a bank of very doubtful 
solvency, and it had to be passed off at a heavy discount. 
Father Gripe is constantly bringing trouble on 
himself, and reproach on the Redeemer's cause, by 
the little, selfish, mean, not to say, iniquitous tricks, 
to which he resorts to obtain or save money. A sin- 
gle case will illustrate. He wished to employ a 
ditcher. The laborer, a very poor man, demanded so 
much by the day, or so much by the month for his 
services. It seemed cheaper to employ him by the 
month ; and old Mr, Gripe engaged to board him, 
and give him his wages. The weather proved very 
inclement- — very little labor could be performed — and 
when the day of settlement came he charged the poor 
laborer high board for the inclement days, so as 
nearly to balance his wages. He sued the extortioner, 
cast him, and exposed him to the scorn of all who 
knew the^facts of the case. I may remark, in pass- 
ing, that Father Gripe has pretty generally several 
lawsuits on hand, and the uncertainty of their issue 
is a great hindrance, so he thinks, to his charities. I 
do not deem him to be dishonest, though many per- 
sons do. In matters involving his own interest, how- 



COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 217^ 

ever, his judgiient is liable to be strangely biased by 
the desire of orain. 

o 

Father Gripe promises to make a liberal provision 
for the cause of Christian benevolence in his will ; but 
I much doubt whether he will do so. I shall be de- 
ceived if the same penuriousness which has followed 
him through life does not accompany him to the tomb. 
His family all partake of his spirit, and would con- 
sider any diversion of his property to the cause of 
benevolence, a serious calamity on themselves. They 
need not fear it ; for the old man is now very much 
influenced by the views of his children. He has 
trained them to his own habits, and found them sound 
in the main point — taking care of money. 

The Bible has not, I think, been much studied by 
the old Father. There are, however, a few passages 
of Scripture exceedingly precious in his sight, and 
very frequently on his lips. " We command you, that 
if any would not work, neither should he eat." " If 
any provide not for his own, and specially for those 
of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is 
worse than an infidel." Another passage is a great 
favorite with brother Gripe. Whether he supposes it 
to be a portion of Holy Writ, I do not know : judg- 
ing from the reverence he has for it, the frequency 
with which he quotes it, and the potent influence it 
exerts over him, I should conclude he does. I do not 
know in what verse or chapter of the book of Diaho- 
lus it is found, but it runs thus. — " Charity must begin 
at home." 



218 COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 

I ought to say, before I conclude,*that this aged 
brother does not take a religious paper. He was once 
persuaded to do so, but at the end of six months, he 
discontinued it in disgust, because it contained so 
many appeals for money. I learn, however, that he 
frequently borrows the paper, to read interesting arti- 
cles, and particularly to look over the prices current, 
from brother Allgood, 

Father Gripe is now an old and infirm man, totter- 
ing on the brink of the grave. His days are almost 
numbered. A life of selfishness; and grasping after 
the world is about to be terminated by the settlement 
of all his accounts at an impartial and searching bar. 
How melancholy to follow such a man to the tomb ! 
How painful to preach his funeral ! How useful he 
might have been to the church, his neighborhood, and 
the world ! I am glad that I am not to be his judge. 
He is a member of the church, and has some influ- 
ence in it ; but has been, if I can rightly judge, a 
clog, and blot, and curse to it. If a man cannot 
serve God and Mammon, it seems quite clear that he 
has served Mammon and not God. All hope of 
change in his character is at an end. " Can the 
Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? 
then may" those " do good who are accustomed to do 
evil." Aged men, like aged trees, strike deeper their 
roots, and, more enamored, cling to this base soil. 

But I must close. Should I be called — as I am 
sure I shall not be — to furnish an epitaph for the 



COVETOUS CHRISTIANS. 219 

tomb of Father Gripej the words of the poet would 
strongly impress themselves on my mind — 

" The man may breathe, but never lives, 
Who much receives, and nothing gives : — 
Whom none can love, and none can thank- 
Creation's blot — creation's blank." 



LECTURE XVI. 

RUM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 

I PROPOSE, brethren and hearers, to call your atten- 
tion, this evening, to a pretty numerous class of Chris- 
tians — Rum Drinking Christians. I use the word 
rum in a generic sense — a sense in which it is some- 
times employed in Temperance Lectures — to denote 
all kinds of intoxicating drinks. I do not maintain 
that drinking rum, as a beverage, i^^ per se, sinful; 
and, much less, that abstinence from its use is the 
whole of that Temperance enjoined in the Scriptures : 
but I do maintain, that, in view of all the circum- 
stances, it is expedient for Christians to avoid such 
use of it. Its use, except medicinally, is unnecessary, 
expensive, insidious in its influence, fraught with peri- 
lous temptation, and frequently ruinous. It has filled 
the land with vice, misery and degradation ; and mul- 
tiplied fearfully widows, orphans and paupers. It 
will hardly be pretended by any considerate man that 
the custom of Rum Drinking offers advantages 
which can overbalance these appalling evils; but 
should any man maintain so monstrous an opinion, I 
do not consider him likely to be profited by argu- 
ments. I am sorry to say there are many Rum 



RUM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 221 

Drinking Christians. They may be found in all 
churches, orthodox and heterodox, worldly and spir- 
itual; and they are not all nominal, but, we must 
charitably suppose, many of them are real Christians. 
Some Christians drink Rum, because they deem 
it conducive to their health. On this point they are 
probably mistaken. It is the concurrent opinion of 
sober physicians that strong drink is not useful, but, 
in many cases, positively injurious to persons in sound 
health ; and my own observations, made on no very 
limited scale, confirm this opinion. Some Christians 
drink Rum from the power of habit. Their fathers 
drank it before them. They have been accustomed 
from their childhood to drink it. The habit has 
grown with their growth, and strengthened with their 
strength ; and though they may not indulge to posi- 
tive inebriety, yet the stimulant has become necessary 
to their pleasant exhilaration, and to the vigor of their 
bodily or mental efforts. Some Christians drink Rum 
from mere inconsiderateness. They have experienced 
no bad effects from drinking it, and have seen others 
drink it with impunity ; and they have been placed in 
circumstances unfavorable to a due consideration of 
the insidious danger of the practice. They have seen 
few able and candid works on the Temperance Refor- 
mation ; or, from some prejudice, they have not 
deemed them worthy of notice. Some Christians 
drink Rum from false notions of independence. They 
look on all attempts, however kindly and prudently 
made, to restrain their indulgence, as an attack on 



222 RVM DRINKING CHRISTIAN'S, 

their liberty; and they drink to make it apparent 
that they will endure no encroachment on their per- 
sonal freedom. In their estimation, Rum Drinking is 
one of the privileges purchased for them by the blood 
of Christ, and secured to them by the Gospel charter ; 
and they cannot consent, from any suggestion of 
worldly policy, to relinquish it. And some Christians 
drink Rum from the sincere love of it. It is plea- 
sant to their taste — its stimulating influence on their 
nerves is agreeable — it augments the delights of their 
social intercourse — and it imparts vivacity to their 
conversation. They do not, indeed, avow, but care- 
fully conceal, even from themselves, their fondness 
for it. They drink it, according to their oft repeated 
assertions, not because they have an appetite for it, 
but on account of its tonic or prophylactic qualities. 
It is no part of my purpose to denounce Rum 
Drinking Christians. That their practice is fraught 
with temptation and danger to themselves, and mis- 
chief to society : even they, in their moments of dis- 
passionate reflection, will scarcely venture to deny. 
To class them with drunkards ; to judge them by 
principles, the soundness of which they do not admit, 
and to speak of them in terms of derision and con- 
tempt, is manifestly unfair, and can serve no purpose 
but to irritate, provoke opposition, and retard the 
Temperance Reform. But, surely, if Rum Drinking 
Christians can be induced seriously to consider the 
unprofitableness of their indulgence, the insidious 
growth of the drunken appetite, the seductive influ- 



RUM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 223 

ence of social habits of drinking, and the number of 
persons who are ensnared and ruined by the practice, 
they will sacrifice a momentary gratification on the 
altar of prudence and usefulness. 

For the purpose of arousing this class of Christians, 
and all other persons who may hear me, to profitable 
reflection on the danger of Rum Drinking^ I shall pre- 
sent a brief and faithful history of Tobias Toper, 
His father, Deacon Toper ^ was a planter, indepen- 
dent, living in comfort and good style, and highly re- 
spected as an honest, hospitable and useful man. As 
a member of the church, he was attentive to his du- 
ties, liberal in his contributions, and generally 
esteemed. Many years he performed the duties of 
the deaconship to the entire satisfaction of his breth- 
ren. There was one blemish in his character — ^he 
drank Runtj and furnished it for his family and guests 
to drink, and encouraged them to use it. In justice, 
however, some things must be said, in palliation of 
his course. When brother Toper became a member 
of the church, and for some years afterwards, the cus- 
tom of Rum Drinking was universal in the church, as 
well as in general society. His habits were formed 
before the principles of the Temperance Reform were 
broached; and these principles appeared to him to be 
an impeachment of the good and venerable men who 
had throughout their lives used Rum, and served 
Christ, and had descended to the tomb with unspotted 
reputations. It should be noted, too, that though a 
constant, he was a temperate drinker, and used all his 



224 RTJM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 

oflScial influence for the suppression of drunkenness 
within the precincts of the church. 

Tobias was a modest, sprightly and promising youth 
— was well educated, of industrious habits, and cor- 
rect morals. In early life he made a profession of 
religion, was baptized, and received into the fellowship 
of the church of which his father was a deacon. He 
was deemed a valuable accession to the church, and 
for several years he fulfilled the most sanguine expec- 
tation of his friends. He was zealous, active, liberal, 
exemplary and useful ; in short, nothing could be said 
in his disparagement, except that he was, like his 
venerable father, a temperate drinker of Rum. 

Mr. Toper^ having reached maturity, and possess- 
ing popular manners, commenced mercantile opera- 
tions in a neighboring city. His business soon seemed 
to be eminently prosperous. Patrons and friends 
were multiplied, his trade greatly increased, and his 
profits were considered satisfactory. He possessed a 
fine turn for mercantile business, was honorable and 
high-minded in his dealings, and the most scrupulous 
Christian could find no fault with him, except that he 
sold Rum — and for this traffic he could plead law, and 
custom, and, even the necessity of supplying the arti- 
cle to his customers for medicinal and other useful 
purposes, and, also, drank himself^ in moderation, of 
the beverage, by way of encouraging its sale. 

After a few years of almost unexampled success, 
Mr. Toper led to the altar one of the noblest speci- 
mens of her sex — ^young, tall, beautiful, of robust 



RUM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 225 

health, the most amiable temper, and the most polished 
manners, and to crown all, most sincerely and con- 
sistently pious, and a member of the same communion 
with himself. Never did a union promise a fuller 
measure of domestic bliss. Congeniality, success in 
business, increasing wealth, the congratulations of 
friends, and the prospect of long years of health, 
caused their cup to run over. A large and well-fur- 
nished mansion, with a flowing hospitality, made their 
home the favorite resort of the gay, the cheerful, and 
the good ; nor were the needy and wretched sent empty 
from their doors. To cement their union and increase 
their joy, in a few years, several beautiful and pro- 
mising children, finely trained by a judicious and at- 
tentive mother, mingled, with all their innocent and 
winning sports, in the domestic circle. The sun did 
not shine on a lovelier or happier family. Only one 
small cloud darkened the firmament of their noon- 
tide bliss — Mr. To;per drank Rum — temperately, pru- 
dently, to be sure, but habitually. His wife, as wise 
as she was good, foresaw the danger, and kindly dis- 
closed to her husband how much she would be grati- 
fied if he would unite with the Temperance Society. 
She plead the Total Abstinence cause as only a fond 
wife, with secret forebodings of the ruin of herself 
and her dependent children could do ; nor was her 
plea without effect. Mr. Toper ^ who was doatingly 
fond of his angel wife, was greatly moved. He pro- 
mised to take the matter under serious consideration. 
There were, however, two obstacles to his complying 



226 RUM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 

with her request. In the first place, the sale of Rum 
he found very profitable; and it was difficult for 
him to relinquish this source of gain. This obstacle 
might have been obviated, had there not been a more 
serious one in the way. Deacon Toper ^ who retained 
great influence over his son, Tobias^ was hostile to the 
Temperance cause. In his judgment the Total Ab- 
stinence pledge was an infringement of Christian 
liberty, and a confession of incapacity for self-govern- 
ment. The authority of the father prevailed over the 
persuasion of the spouse; and Tobias Toper quieted 
the apprehension of his excellent wife by the most 
solemn assurances of his intentions to be prudent, and 
of his perfect self-control. 

Many men, virtuous in prosperity, become reckless 
and vicious in adversity. Had Mr. Toper not been 
overtaken by a reverse of fortune, his history might 
have been far different from that which I am called 
to relate. Suddenly, and to the amazement of all 
his friends, he failed in business ; and his failure was 
total and overwhelming. In his extremity, he re* 
sorted, or was supposed to have resorted to dishonorable 
means to save a portion of his property, and lost his 
character. Owing to some liability assumed for him, 
and which he was unable to meet. Deacon Toper be- 
came utterly alienated from his dishonored son, and 
visited his displeasure not only on him, but on his ex- 
cellent wife and unoffending children. How melan- 
choly to contemplate the change which in a few months 
came over this happy family. Their spacious, hospi- 



RUM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 227 

table homej their fine furniture, their respectable equi» 
page, and all their means of comfort and sustenance, 
had passed into other hands ; and with their property 
and hospitality had passed away most of their friends. 
The wife bore the shock with Christian fortitude, and 
had her husband only possessed her resolution and en- 
terprise, they would have risen above all their calami- 
ties. But, alas ! poor Toper had formed a fatal habit, 
whose disastrous effects now began to appear. He 
sought the alleviation of his distress in Rwn Drinking 
— ^became intemperate — was soon a confirmed sot — 
and a wretched, ragged loafer. We have known many 
to fall by Rum Drinking^ but never one to fall so sud- 
denly, rapidly and profoundly as Tobias Toper. When 
his pecuniary embarrassments overtook him he was of 
high standing in society, a respected member of a 
church, and of irreproachable character — in less than 
two years he had passed through every stage of in- 
temperance to the lowest point of degradation to which 
that hateful vice ever sinks its hapless victims. Aban- 
doning all occupation, he cast his lovely wife, and 
sweet, sprightly children on the care of generous rela- 
tives, illy able to support them. He became a vaga- 
bond, and sponge on his acquaintances. I first saw 
him in a barber's shop, begging some one, and beg- 
ging in vain, to lend him a dollar to pay a debt, which, 
he said, he had promised to pay that day. After ob- 
taining money of all his acquaintances, who would 
trust him, or, rather, were willing to make him a do- 
nation, he, by sheer importunity, borrowed from ost- 



228 RVm DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 

lers, draymen, and hotel waiters, under fair promises 
of speedy payment, small sums, frequently not exceed- 
ing a dime, which were spent in the lowest and mean- 
est dram-shops for Rum, to satiate, or rather increase, 
his intemperate and burning appetite. But in his 
deepest wretchedness he never abandoned his religious 
hope. Excluded from the church, scorned of men, 
and hopelessly enslaved by vice, he would talk to his 
Rum-house companions of his experience, consolations, 
and prospects of heavenly felicity. 

When he was free from the maddening influence of 
Runiy Toper almost adored his lovely and devoted 
wife. But drunkenness gradually changed him from 
an amiable and tender husband to an unfeeling and 
brutal tyrant. When drunk, the woman whom he had 
sworn to love, and who loved him with a devotion 
bordering on idolatry, was the object of his most im- 
placable hatred, and most unfeeling abuse ; but when 
sober, he would atone for his unkindness by ingenuous 
confessions, bitter tears, and promises of reformation. 
On one occasion, his wife was compelled to seek pro- 
tection from his drunken rage of a brother-in-law — a 
protection which was promptly afforded. Toper swore 
vengeance against his unoffending relative. It was not 
long before he found an opportunity of indulging his 
vindictive spirit. He armed himself, went to the 
house of his brother-in-law, where his trembling wife 
had found a refuge, called him out, attacked him, and 
inflicted on him a serious wound. At first, it was not 
deemed dangerous ; but after a while, aggravated by 



RUM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 229 

an unfortunate constitutional tendency, it became 
alarming, and finally proved fatal. Poor Toper was 
arrested, tried, and condemned to three years' con- 
finement in the Penitentiary. lie would have been 
sentenced to be hung, had it not appeared probable 
from the evidence that it was not his purpose to com- 
mit murder, and that the wounded man might have 
recovered under more skillful medical treatment. For 
three long years, Toper ^ once so gay, so prosperous, 
and so beloved, was the inmate of the State Prison, 
the companion of felons, and doomed to hard toil and 
fare. When his term of servitude expired, it was 
hoped that long continued abstinence had subdued his 
appetite for Rum. No entreaties, nor ofi'ers of friend- 
ship could induce his wife to abandon him. She 
clung to him with a tenacity which seemed to be in- 
creased by his degradation and wretchedness. After 
his release from the Penitentiary, she received him 
into the little room where, by her industry and good 
management, she had maintained herself and children 
in comfort. By every act which love could prompt, 
or ingenuity devise, she sought to win him back to the 
path of sobriety, and soothe him in his infamy. But 
all her efforts were vain. The drunken appetite re- 
turned with his freedom. In a few weeks, his habits 
of inebriation and loafing were fully reestablished. 
He was soon seen at his old haunts of dissipation, 
mingling with his corrupt associates, and resorting 
to the same detestable means of indulging his appe- 
tite for Rum. 



230 RUM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 

It seems to be a wise and beneficent arrangement 
of Providence, that a drunkard's life shall be short. 
Wretched himself, with little prospect of his reforma- 
tion, and a burden and curse to his friends, the early 
close of his probation is a mercy. It was not proba- 
ble that such a life as that of Tobias Tojper could be 
long preserved. Thinly clad, exposed to the inclement 
night air, of irregular habits, and with a stomach con- 
stantly distended and burning with jSre water, his end 
could not be distant. He was suddenly seized with 
delirium tremens. His sufferings were intense, be- 
yond all description. He fancied that his children, 
for whom, in his degradation, he cherished a warm af- 
fection, were burning up before his eyes. The scene 
was pictured, before his maniac mind, with all the 
vividness of reality. He saw, and to his agonized 
wife, and a few attendants at his dying bed, he would 
pathetically describe the kindling flame, the peril of 
his children, their tortures, as the advancing fire would 
consume member after member of their bodies, and 
the utter consumption of the helpless innocents ; and 
his anguish was expressed by groans, and screams, and 
loud laments One frightful illusion passed only to 
make way for another equally frightful and agonizing. 
After a few days of these dreadful sufferings, the poor 
maniac died — died without a lucid interval, or any 
mitigation of his anguish. 

I was called to attend his funeral. Never had I 
received so deep an impression of the evils of drunk- 



RTJM DRINKING CHRISTIANS. 231 

enness, and the danger of Ru7n Drinking^ as while 
gazing on the lifeless body of the inebriate, Tobias 
Toper. I thought of what he was — what, but for a 
father's example and influence, he might have been — 
to what disgrace and misery Rmn Drinking had 
brouo;ht him — what a fearful death he had died — and 
my soul shuddered while I attempted to trace his 
flight to the eternal world. There sat his faithful 
wife, bathed in tears, broken-hearted, utterly crushed 
by a sense of her misfortunes, and her unmerited dis- 
grace, and yet humbly confiding in her heavenly Father. 
The little children, too young to understand their 
loss or disgrace, clustered about their fond mother, 
wondering why she wept. It was a heart-touching 
scene, and full of instruction. I wished that every 
drunkard, every young man who uses intoxicating 
drinks, and every Ru7n Drinking Christian could 
gaze upon it. But my lips were sealed by a regard to 
the feelings of the living. I spake of the mercy of 
God, the fullness of Christ, the sufficiency of grace, 
and the blessedness of the righteous ; but I thought 
of a drunkard's life — a drunkard's death — a drunk- 
ard's end — and the words of the apostle seemed to 
sound in my ears — ** Neither shall drunkards inherit 
the kingdom of Heaven." 

The body of the unfortunate Toper was followed 
to its final resting place by a few friends of the family 
who remembered his former respectability. It was 
laid in a drunkard's grave. ^ Let no stone mark the 



232 RUM DRINKINa CHRISTIANS. 

spot, SO that when his children grow up they may find 
no memorial of a father's disgrace. 

I had intended to close with some remarks, but I 
have barely time to say, that, all things considered, it 
is wiser, better, safer for all men, and especially for 
Christians^ to abstain from Rum Drinking. 



LECTURE XVIL 

INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 

A CONSISTENT Christian is one whose principles, 
professions, and conduct are in harmony. His life 
is pure, peaceable, beneficent, devout, and zealous, as 
''becometh the gospel of Christ." You may always 
find him in the right place, in the right company, in 
the right employment, and tending in the right direc- 
tion. He may err in judgment, or fail of success, but 
his purposes are good. His spirit, conversation, and 
works bear concurrent and lucid testimony to the sin- 
cerity of his Christian profession, and the stability of 
his religious principles. Place him in circumstances 
of temptation and of peril, and you may venture to 
predict that his conduct will bring no reproach on the 
Master whom he serves. What beautiful specimens 
of consistency we have in the lives of Joseph, Daniel, 
and Paul. In prosperity or in adversity, in successes 
or in dangers, in palaces or in prisons, in labors or in 
sufi'erings, in public or in private, their piety shone 
with equal radiance. Perfect consistency cannot be 
found among mortals. It would imply entire freedom 
from sin and error ; and this exemption cannot be af- 
firmed of Christians, even the most matured. But to 



234 INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 

a high degree of consistency all may, and many do, 
attain. 

My hearers will readily perceive that an Inconsis- 
tent Christian is one who does not possess, or pos- 
sesses in a very imperfect measure, the character 
which I have described. His conduct is not in uni- 
son with his professions. He professes to love Christ 
supremely, but does not keep his commandments. He 
proclaims that he is dead to the world, but nobody 
would thus infer from the earnestness with which he 
pursues it, or the zest with which he enjoys it. He 
is a member of a Christian church ; but if you would 
learn the fact, you must examine, not his conversa- 
tion or conduct, but the church records. Inconsis- 
tent Christians are a numerous class. They abound 
in all communions. No Christians, indeed, are wholly 
exempt from the evil. But I propose in this Lec- 
ture to treat of those marked and flagrant instances 
of it which are a stumbling block to the wicked, a 
grief to the godly, and a reproach to Christianity. 
Such cases are constantly attracting our notice. As 
no one Christian could possibly exemplify in his life 
every kind of inconsistency found in the churches, I 
will select a number of individuals, each representing 
a particular phase of the evil. 

Brother Severe is a minister of the gospel — an em- 
inent revivalist. I once had the pleasure of attend- 
ing a series of meetings with him. His preaching was 
plain, searching, and faithful. His delineations of 
vice and its consequences were truthful, and in some 



INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 235 

cases absolutely horrifying. His views ot moral ob- 
ligation were all extreme. Every species of sin came 
in for a full sbare of his reproof and denunciation. 
He seemed to have a mission to probe every heart, 
and awaken every conscience. The wicked were 
afraid to hear his sermons, lest their sins — even their 
most secret sins — should be placed in startling array 
before their eyes. How much was I surprised to 
learn, as I afterwards did, from a most trust- worthy 
source, that he was at this very time dealing in lottery 
tickets. In some other Christians such conduct 
would not have seemed so strange. They are loose 
casuists. But that Elder Severe^ whose views of mo- 
rality were so extreme and inflexible, should have en- 
gaged in a traffic condemned by all intelligent and 
earnest Christians, was glaringly inconsistent. He 
felt it to be so ; for he carefully concealed his con- 
duet from his most intimate Christian friends. I was 
grieved at his course, and never since have had full 
confidence in his sincerity. 

Brother Greatman is, in many respects, the most 
prominent member of the church to which he belongs. 
He is rich, intelligent, occupies a high social position, 
and is much respected by the community. He pos- 
sesses some fine qualities. He is honorable, liberal, 
hospitable, and of conciliating manners. He ought 
to be, and might be, but he is not, the most useful 
member of the church. Mr. Greatman is an aspirant 
after political distinction. He attends political meet- 
ings, and makes speeches which are complimented for 



236 INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 

their logic, eloquence, and fervor. And yet no en- 
treaty can induce him to teach a class in a Sunday- 
school, offer prayer in a social meeting, or make an 
address to promote any religious or benevolent ob- 
ject. Now this is inconsistent ; and all the truth 
must be told. When he was a young man, less expe- 
rienced and less popular than he now is, he took an 
active and most acceptable part in social prayer meet- 
ings and Sunday-schools ; but as he has grown older, 
and his knowledge and influence have increased, his 
efficiency in the cause of Christ has diminished. Like 
Peter, on the night of his fall, he follows Christ " afar 
off." I fear that the resemblance between him and 
Peter may proceed another step ; and that in some un- 
guarded moment, as did that apostle, he may deny his 
Lord. And, alas ! many fall like Peter, who do not, 
like Peter, weep. 

Brother Fickly was for many years an esteemed, 
active, and useful member of a country church. In- 
terest or inclination led him to sell his farm, and re- 
move to the city. Whether he sought, as he should 
have done, in the change to promote the glory of God, 
I know not. His leaving the country was deeply la- 
mented by his brethren. They felt- that the cause of 
Christ was sustaining a severe loss, but comforted 
themselves with the persuasion that their loss would 
be the gain of the city churches. I was assured by 
the excellent pastor of brother Fickly that we would 
find him a valuable acquisition to our ranks. We 
formed high expectations of his usefulness, and were 



INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 23 7 



prepared to give him a hearty welcome. He came, 
bringing with him a letter of dismission for himself 
and several members of his family. Month after 
month passed away, and he failed to hand his certifi- 
cate of dismission to the church. He attended some- 
times one place of worship, and sometimes another, 
but was never seen in a Sunday-school or a prayer 
meeting. When affectionately urged to unite with a 
church, he had a long list of complaints and objections 
to recite. The brethren are distant in their manners ; 
the worship is formal ; there is a great deal of pride 
in the congregation ; things are not like they were in 
the country. Now, suppose all these things be ad- 
mitted, what then ? If the brethren are distant to- 
ward him, is not his course adapted to repel their 
confidence and affection ? If the worship is formal, 
is he doing aught to increase its fervency ? If there 
is much pride in the church, is he setting them an 
example of humility ? But things are not like they 
were in the country. Be it so. How could it be 
otherwise ? In some respects city churches differ, 
and must differ, from country churches. But the 
same gospel is preached, the same God is worshipped, 
the same ordinances are observed, and the same hopes 
are cherished in the churches of the city and the country. 
Years have passed away since brother FicMy took up 
his abode in the city, and he still retains, if he has not 
lost, his certificate of dismission. He is a wandering 
sheep — an out-side Christian — lost to the denomina- 
tion^ — lost to the cause of Christ — his religious enjoy- 
ment is lost ; and I fear his soul will be finally lost. 



238 INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 

I must now notice the inconsistency of brother 
Sleeper. He is fond of revivals, and deems himself 
peculiarly fitted to labor in them. I once heard him 
say, " Other men may live without revivals, but I 
never can." I thought the remark savored of pre- 
sumption. I knew that many ministers of earnest 
piety, and faithful, who would have rejoiced greatly 
in the revival of the Lord's work, had been doomed 
to lament the prevalence of sin and infidelity in the 
world, and of coldness and apathy in the churches. Our 
Lord himself did not always, nor chiefly, labor in revi- 
vals. And who was brother Sleeper^ that he should 
certainly be exempt from the discouragements to 
which his brethren and his Master had been subject ? 
In revivals, he was a most active Christian. He 
seemed never to tire in attending meetings, praying, 
singing, conversing with inquirers, and visiting from 
house to house. Were you to judge of his piety sole- 
ly from his labors in such seasons, you would pro- 
nounce him the most exemplary and efficient of Chris- 
tians. But to form a right estimate of his character, 
you must see him when iniquity abounds, and the 
love of many waxes cold. His piety has now so sad- 
ly degenerated that you can scarcely recognize him. 
His zeal has vanished " like the early cloud or morn- 
ing dew." Now he is frequently absent from the 
house of worship on Lord's-day morning, is rarely 
present at the weekly evening lecture, and is never 
seen in the prayer meeting. He thinks his pastor a 
very cold and profitless preacher. He wishes to hear 



INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS, 239 

stirring, melting sermons all the time. He has no 
relish for doctrinal preaching. His soul loathes it, 
as the Israelites loathed the manna in the desert. 
He can live only on condiments ; and as he cannot 
obtain a supply of these, he pines, and is ready to 
perish. But should another revival take place, he 
will renew his strength, mount up with wings as an 
eagle ; he will run, and not be weary, and he will 
walk, and not faint, until the excitement subsides. 

Now, this course of brother Sleeper is grossly and 
shamefully inconsistent. True piety is steady — not 
fitful. A time of revival may call for labors, pecu- 
liar in kind, and more abundant in measure,* but 
every season has its appropriate responsibilities and 
duties. Christ is always lovely, his service is always 
pleasant, souls are always precious, sin is always hate- 
ful, heaven and hell are always solemn realities, and 
death is always approaching. How timely, then, the 
apostolic exhortation — '' Therefore let us not sleep, 
as do others ; but let us watch and be sober."* 

Brother Fairword is an eminent preacher of the 
gospel — a clear, earnest, practical preacher. For im- 
pressive declamation he is almost unrivalled. He has 
gathered, as might be expected, a large and respecta- 
ble congregation. He is a decided and earnest advo- 
cate of what are usually termed the benevolent opera- 
tions of the day. Certainly, few ministers can plead 
the cause of Christian benevolence more forcibly than 

* 1 Thess. V : 6- 



240 INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 

he does. He is sent for, far and near, to deliver ser- 
mons and addresses before Bible, Mission, and kin- 
dred Associations. These invitations he usually ac- 
cepts, and pleads the cause of Christian liberality 
with an eloquence, force, and pathos which not mere- 
ly command respect, but excite universal admiration. 
Now this is very commendable. But mark the incon- 
sistency of the man ! God has greatly prospered 
him in his temporal interests. He is rich, and pos- 
sessing a good judgment, and ready tact in the man- 
agement of his estate, he is constantly growing richer. 
His church, too, makes him a reasonable compensa- 
tion for his pastoral labors. And yet, from all that 
I can learn, he gives nothing, or very little, to pro- 
mote the cause of Christ. He may suppose that he 
performs his part by pleading the claims of Christian 
benevolence ; but in this he errs. It is required of 
every man according to that he hath. Brother Fair- 
word has ability to present and enforce the claims of 
charity ; and this ability he properly consecrates to 
Christ. But the Elder has more : he has wealth. Is 
he not bound to devote this also to Christ ? Because 
he usefully employs one talent, is he at liberty to 
hide another in the earth ? Will not Christ hold him 
responsible for the use which he makes of both tal- 
ents ? Besides, how much would the weight and in- 
fluence of his eloquent addresses be increased if they 
were enforced by the example of his own noble liberal- 
ity ? How can he hope to convince his hearers of his 
sincerity when they see such a glaring inconsistency 



INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 241 

between his words and his deeds ? The discrepancy 
is noticed more than he is aware of; and it is surely 
having its effect. The meagre contributions made by 
the members of the church under his pastorate pro- 
claim too clearly that his example is exerting a more 
potent influence than his eloquent declamation. 

Sister Shoivey is in very comfortable worldly cir- 
cumstances — neither rich nor poor. When, however, 
she is solicited to contribute any thing in charity, or 
to promote the cause of Christ, or even for the sup- 
port of the church of which she is a member, she in- 
variably excuses herself on the plea of inability. Her 
disposition is most benevolent and generous, accor- 
ding to her own account. " You have come to the 
right one," she says to the solicitor, " if I only had 
the means to aid you. No person is fonder of giving 
than I am, or would give more liberally than I would ; 
I am poor — my family is large and expensive — my 
means have fallen short this year ; and I fear I shall 
not be able to pay my just debts. I am grieved that 
I cannot aid you ; I feel a deep interest in the cause 
which you plead, and hope I shall be able next year 
to give something handsome to it." These are fair 
words ; but they are deceitful. Go to sister Shoivey'' s 
house, and you will find her living in the greatest 
comfort, and even in splendor. Her furniture is ele- 
gant ; her table sumptuous ; her daughters dress more 
expensively than any young ladies in the neighborhood ; 
and, in short, no cost is spared which can contribute 
to the enjoyment or respectability of her family. And 



242 INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 

I know that she occasionally lends out small sums of 
money at unlawful interest. No pew in the church, 
except the very best, would suit her. This having 
been procured for her, she furnished with cushions, 
footstools, and gilt books, in tasteful and costly style ; 
though she rarely pays the rent. On one occasion 
the church, being in debt, resolved to make an effort 
to pay it. The members, according to their several 
abilities, contributed to secure so desirable an object. 
But sister Showey declined giving any thing on her 
usual plea of poverty. While, however, this effort 
was being made, and some of the poorer members were 
giving beyond their ability, to supply her lack of lib- 
erality, she had a large and gay party at her house, 
which cost her five times as much as her fair propor- 
tion of the church debt. She might be a useful Chris- 
tian, for she is kind in her spirit, and refined in her 
manners ; but her inconsistency, ^' known and read 
of all men," makes her " a by-word and hissing " 
among the ungodly, and a mortification to her breth- 
ren. 

Brother Worthless is a bundle of inconsistencies. 
His life is made up of them. To point them out 
would be to write his entire religious history. You 
cannot infer from his principles what his conduct will 
be ; nor from his conduct what his principles are. He 
is a professor of religion ; but his life is often sadly 
at variance with his profession. But I must be more 
definite in my remarks. Brother Worthless contracts 
debts without a reasonable prospect of paying them ; 



INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 243 

and then promises to pay, without making any ear- 
nest effort to fulfill his engagements. I do not affirm 
that he wilfully violates his promises ; hut he has so 
frequently broken them, that they command no confi- 
dence in trade. I dare not charge him with deliberate 
lying, but he is so addicted to exaggeration, that little 
reliance can be placed on his solemn asseverations. 
He is a warm advocate of temperance — would gladly 
make abstinence from strong drink a term of church 
membership ; and yet he is completely enslaved by his 
appetites. He is a man of energy. No inclemency 
of weather prevents him from attending to his secular 
business. In heat and cold, in rain, snow, and storm, 
early and late, he may be found at the market, in his 
store, or wherever interest may call him. He attends, 
through all difficulties, political meetings, the meet- 
ings of the Division of the Sons of Temperance, musi- 
cal concerts, literary lectures, the meetings of joint 
stock companies — in short, any meetings for business 
or pleasure, and even, occasionally, it is said, the the- 
atre ; but he rarely attends religious meetings, except 
on Lord's-day mornings ; and then the slightest ex- 
cuse — fatigue, the muddiness of the streets, the threat- 
ening aspect of the weather, or the presence of irreli- 
gious company — will suffice to keep him away. One 
cloudy Sunday his place in the house of worship was 
vacant. Monday morning I met him at the market in 
a torrent of rain. I said to him, ^' I did not see you 
at church yesterday morning." " No," he replied, " I 
was afraid it would rain." " But you are not afraid 



244 INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 

of the rain this morning, it seems," I remarked. 
" Oh," he said, " I am obliged to come to market." 
Brother Worthless is very careful to send his daugh- 
ters to a dancing school ; but they, as might be ex- 
pected, since they commenced learning to dance, have 
very little relish for the Sunday-school, and seldom 
attend it ; and he does not use his authority or in- 
fluence to correct the evil. During a revival, in which 
many children of his neighbors were joyfully convert- 
ed, he professed great concern for the salvation of his 
own children, though he was rarely present at the 
meetiDgs, and took no pains to induce his children to 
attend. Their conversion, under the circumstances, 
would have been a miracle — a harvest without sow- 
ing. He is seldom present at church meetings, but 
is almost certain to complain of what is done in his 
absence. He is fond of doctrinal preaching, and 
deems it a great hardship when his pastor does not 
feed him on such food as he relishes. But I need not 
dwell longer on his character. Suffice it to say, that 
it is made up of groundless prejudices, childish whims, 
strange inconsistencies, and criminal perversities. 

The had effects of inconsistency among Christians 
are manifold, obvious, and melancholy. 

It is subversive of usefulness. Who can confide in 
an inconsistent Christian ? "I heard," says a Chris- 
tian minister, " an excellent sermon to young people, 
on a New Year's day, in the morning. The text 
was, ^ Redeeming the time because the days are evil.'" 
The minister then went to dine, and spend the rest of 



INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 245 

the day with a party, where the time was spent in 
feasting, levity, and folly. Late in the evening, one 
of the party observed, ^^ Really, this is a poor way of 
redeeming the time." " Poh !" said another, " it is 
all a farce."* What a pity it was that the influence 
of a good sermon should have been counteracted by 
the thoughtless inconsistency of the minister who 
preached it ! But so it was. And such must ever 
be the effect of inconsistency in Christians. The most 
instructive and powerful sermons will avail nothing 
if they are not enforced by the resistless eloquence of 
a blameless life. Men suspect, and well may they 
suspect, the sincerity of those whose lives are not in 
harmony with their principles and teaching. The pul- 
pit cannot, and it ought not, to shield them from mer- 
ited reproach. "Thou, therefore, which teachest 
another, teachest thou not thyself ? thou that preach- 
est a man should not steal, dost thou steal ? thou 
that sayest a man should not commit adultery, dost 
thou commit adultery ? thou that abhorrest idols, 
dost thou commit sacrilege ?"* We instinctively re- 
ply to the inconsistent reprover of sin, " Physician, 
heal thyself." If, then. Christians would be useful 
— would be " the salt of the earth," and ^^the light 
of the world " — their lives must be coincident with 
their principles — a living, luminous, inspiring com- 
mentary on the doctrine which they profess and 
teach. Then will the world give them credit for sin- 

* Arvine's Cy. of Mer. and Rel. Anecdotes, 209. 
t Rom. ii : 21, 22. 



246 INCONSISTENT CHRISTIANS. 

cerity, do homage to their moral worth, and be won 
by the gospel of Christ. 

Inconsistency among Christians is a reproach to the 
Redeemer, It seems unfair that Christianity should 
be held responsible for the misconduct of those who as- 
sume her garb and her name, but do not imbibe her 
spirit, reverence her authority, or trust in her prom- 
ises : but so it is, and so, to a great extent, it must 
be. But few will take the trouble to discriminate 
between Christianity and the unworthy professors of 
it. Most men will form their estimate of the system 
from the lives of those who embrace it, whether sin- 
cerely or hypocritically. Thus Christ is wounded in 
the house of his friends. The inconsistencies of his 
followers are a hindrance to his cause, and a reproach 
to his name. If, then. Christians would honor their 
Master, they must carefully avoid — in spirit, in word, 
and in deed — whatsoever is incompatible with their 
high profession and their solemn obligations, and as- 
siduously follow whatsoever things are pure, and love- 
ly, and of good report. 



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